INSIDE  AND  OUTSIDE 

'■  '•  ,      ').  ]     "  ,         -  OF  ===== 


ROCK  ISLAND 


MAIN  AVENUE.  ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


BY 

J. 

W.  MINNICH,  &5Hi£45PFfis. 

SUPPLEMENTED  WITH  SKETCH  BY 

MRS. 

KATE  E.  PERRY-MOSHER, 

Covington,  Ky. 

George  Washington  Flowers 
Memorial  Collection 


DUKE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 


ESTABLISHED  BY  THE 
FAMILY  OF 
COLONEL  FLOWERS 


J.   W.  MINN1CH. 


INSIDE  OF 

ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON 

FROM 

December,  1863,  to  June,  1865. 


By  J.  W.  M1N  N  ICH, 

GRAND   IS.LE,  LA. 


Nashville,  Tfnn.;  Dallas.  Tex. 
Publishing  Hoi  st  of  the  M.  E.  Church,  South. 
Smith  &  Lamar,  Agents. 

190S. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2014 


https://archive.org/details/insideofrockislaOOminn 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


Report  of  Eighteen  Months'  Experiences, 
by  j.  w.  minnich,  grand  isle/ la. 

1  have  been  called  upon  and  urged  by  comrades  and  friends 
in  the  North  as  well  as  the  South  (who  were  not  comrades) 
for  nearly  forty  years  to  tell  the  story  of  my  life  in  Rock 
Island  Prison  during  a  residence  of  eighteen  months  of  1864 
and  1865  in  Barrack  No.  47. 

I  .have  always  refused  to  make  public  the  conditions  under 
which  we  were  held  there  from  December,  1863,  to  the  last 
days  of  June,  1865.  I  refused  to  make  public  what  I  know, 
saw,  heard,  and,  with  over  twelve  thousand  others,  was  sub- 
jected to  during  my  eighteen  months'  stay  inside  the  prison, 
because  I  did  not  wish  to  keep  alive  the  fires  of  sectional 
hatred  which  the  war  and  its  causes  had  engendered.  Be- 
sides, in  so  doing  I  must  perforce  humiliate  the  men  of  my 
own  blood  and  kin  who  wore  the  blue  throughout  the  four 
long-drawn-out  bloody  years  of  that  stupendous  fratricidal 
strife — men  who  wore  their  uniforms  honorably  and  who  en- 
tertained a  hearty  respect  for  their  opponents  in  gray,  albeit 
they  could  not  consent  to  a  dismemberment  of  the  Union 
under  any  pretext.  Nor  would  I  consent  at  this  late  day  to 
strike  back  were  it  not  that  there  are  many  of  the  swash- 
bucklers of  that  far-away  time  still  above  ground  who  have 
not  as  yet  shown  the  least  symptoms  of  having  outgrown 
their  hatred  of  all  things  Southern,  and  who  are  still  singing 
the  old  worn-out  song  of  the  "Bloody  Shirt ;"  men  who,  either 
in  ignorance  of  the  truth  or  whose  hatred  of  Southerners 
will  not  allow  them  to  acknowledge  the  truth,  though  it 
were  writ  in  letters  of  fire,  persist  in  rehashing  the 
calumnies  of  that  period  when  passions  were  at  boiling  heat. 

Many  men  who  still  insist  upon  the  truth  of.  the  charges 


4 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


made  against  the  Confederate  authorities  of  cruelty  to  Union 
prisoners  in  Southern  prisons,  and  the  many  crimes  laid  at 
the  door  of  unfortunate  Henry  Wirz  and  for  which  on  per- 
jured testimony  he  was  hanged  like  any  ordinary  murderer,  as 
well  as  the  complicity  of  General  Winder  in  all  the  crimes 
imputed  to  Wirz,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  Winder  was 
discharged  for  want  of  evidence,  and  since  the  Grand  Army 
Convention  at  Minneapolis  saw  fit  to  ignore  the  truth,  and 
brought  prominently  before  the  public  again  those  exploded 
charges  with  the  view  of  attempting  to  perpetuate  them  to  the 
dishonor  of  a  man  whom,  in  order  to  convict,  the  prosecution 
was  forced  to  the  basely  criminal  expedient  of  suborning  wit- 
nesses on  whose  perjured  testimony  Wirz  was  condemned 
and  hurried  to  execution  within  six  days,  lest  by  any  pos- 
sible chance  the  truth  concerning  the  quality  of  the  evidence 
against  him  become  known  to  the  public,  and  thereby  raise 
a  doubt  as  to  the  justness  of  his  conviction  (for  once  dead,  he 
could  not  ask  for  a  new  trial,  "based  on  newly  discovered  evi- 
dence"— like  those  other  two  unfortunates,  Mrs.  Surratt  and 
Herrold,  hurried  to  an  unjust  doom),  impel  the  motive  to  re- 
corded truth  and  justice. 

Because  of  these  things  and  the  reiteration  of  those  charges 
by  the  G.  A.  R.  Convention  at  Minneapolis,  by  which  the 
South  is  still  being  held  up  to  the  gaze  of  this  and  future 
generations  as  a  people  devoid  of  humanity  as  Kurd  or  Cos- 
sack, I  am  led  to  tell  something  about  the  other  side  of  the 
picture.  I  shall  confine  myself  strictly  to  what  came  under 
my  own  personal  observation,  and  without  drawing  on  hearsay 
except  in  confirmation  of  facts  stated.  Then  I  will  leave  it 
to  the  judgment  of  the  unprejudiced  wherein  lay  the  greater 
responsibility  as  between  a  people  whose  resources  had  been 
drained  by  over  three  years'  war,  with  a  large  part  of  their 
territory  in  the  hands  of  an  invading  hostile  force,  with  lines 
of  communications  severed,  and  almost  totally  cut  off  from 
communication  with  the  outside  world,  who  could  not  give  a 
decent  ration  to  the  men  who  were  guarding  the  prisoners 
within  their  limits,  much  less  of  food  and  clothing  to  the 
armies  in  the  field  struggling  against  double  their  own  num- 
bers;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  a  people  who  had  every  facility 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


5 


to  draw'  on  the  world  for  all  their  requirements,  with  fields 
untouched  by  the  ravages  of  war,  with  granaries  full,  and 
with  every  industry  unchecked,  who  knew  naught  of  dev- 
asted  fields,  blackened  ruins  of  homes  and  factories,  of  the 
desperate  silent  battle  against  hollow-eyed,  grim-visaged  star-' 
ration  and  need  in  every  walk  and  stage  of  life,  from  the 
ragged  soldier  in  the  field  to  the  infant  at  its  mother's  emaci- 
ated breast  and  tottering  old  age.  And  yet  this  people,  claim- 
ing the  highest  civilization,  erudition,  and  lofty  human  prin- 
ciples, saw  fit  through  its  administrative  representatives  to 
fall  back  on  the  barbarous  practice  long  past  of  punishing 
those  who  were  unfortunate  enough  to  fall  into  their  hands 
as  prisoners  of  war  for  revenge  because  of  alleged  cruelty 
to  their  own  men  in  Confederate  prisons.  Suppose  that  un- 
necessary harshness  had  been  inflicted  upon  Federal  prisoners 
by  subordinates,  would  that  fact  have  justified  such  measures 
of  "retaliation"  as  were  resorted  to  by  the  Washington  ad- 
ministration? And  that,  too,  at  the  very  time  when  Captain 
Wirz  was  complaining  to  the  government  of  the  quality  of  the 
"bread"  furnished  to  the  prisoners,  and  asking  that  the  meal 
be  bolted  before  issuance,  in  order  to  increase  its  value  in 
bulk  to  each  man. 

His  letter  to  that  effect  is  dated  June  6,  1864.  And  on  the 
following  10th  the  retaliatory  order  of  Secretary  of  War 
Stanton  was  put  in  force  in  Northern  prisons — at  least,  it  was 
in  Rock  Island  Prison.  Whatever  may  have  been  lacking  of 
a  full  ration  prior  to  that  date  was  not  a  serious  privation,  for 
we  had  become  accustomed  in  the  field  to  not  feel  the  lack  of 
one,  two,  or  even  three  meals  in  succession.  But  then  the 
conditions  were  different. 

Whatever  we  say  on  this  subject,  we  must  be  fair  and  adhere 
strictly  to  the  truth  as  we  know  it  from  personal  experience 
and  not  from  hearsay.  Prior  to  the  10th  of  June,  1864,  those 
who  had  friends  within  the  Union  lines  wrere  allowed  to  re- 
ceive boxes  or  packages-  of  edibles  such  as  are  not  furnished 
to  troops  by  their  governments — dainties  of  all  kinds.  But 
after  the  10th  of  June  all  boxes  that  arrived  containing  edibles 
were  opened  and  the  contents  sent  to  the  hospitals,  so  they 
said  ;  but  such  packages  as  contained  clothing  only  were  ad- 


6 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


mitted.  Up  to  that  date  any  one  who  had  money  could  buy 
from  the  sutler  for  the  post,  a  man  named  Dart.  So  far  as  I 
know,  he  was  a  fair  man.  We  could  not  go  to  the  sutler's, 
but  he  would  make  almost  daily  visits  inside  the  prison  with 
a  wagon  loaded  with  such  things  as  the  prisoners  wanted ;  but 
after  the  date  above  he  did  not  come  into  the  prison  again 
until  one  or  two  days  before  the  following  Christmas.  But 
of  that  later  on.  Thus  we  were  cut  off  from  receiving  all 
edibles  from  friends  outside,  deprived  of  the  right  to  pur- 
chase from  the  sutler  or  any  other  source,  and  our  rations 
reduced  to  fourteen  ounces  of  bread  and  twelve  ounces  of 
fresh  beef  per  day  and  one  quart  of  hominy  to  a  man  for  ten 
days,  and  just  at  the  beginning  of  summer,  when  the  river 
from  which  we  pumped  our  supply  of  water  into  two  large 
cisterns  sank  into  the  ground  in  the  main  avenue.  The  river 
was  already  near  its  lowest  stage  and  declining  rapidly  under 
the  broiling  summer's  sun,  and  the  water  was  turning  in 
color  from  clear  to  a  muddy  green,  and  later  on  during  the 
hot  days  of  July  and  August  was  unfit  to  drink.  Ugh  !  seems 
as  if  its  odor  of  river  moss  is  still  hanging  around. 

But  work  was  well  under  way  toward  the  sinking  of  an 
artesian  well ;  and  when  the  river  was  at  its  lowest  and  the 
water  had  reached  the  lowest  degree  of  nauseousness,  good, 
pure  water  was  struck  at  a  depth  of  twelve  hundred  feet, 
more  or  less,  and  a  pump  installed.  From  that  time  on  we 
had  good  water,  but  not  an  oversupply.  Two  men  were  de- 
tailed from  daylight,  or  roll  call  in  the  morning,  to  pump  until 
noon,  two  others  then  taking  their  places  until  night.  Owing 
to  the  number  of  barracks  and  men  (over  8,000)  to  be  sup- 
plied, only  one  bucket  was  allowed  to  each  man  coming  to 
the  well.  Each  had  his  turn,  and  often  during  the  hottest 
part  of  the  day  there  would  be  from  each  of  the  barracks  a 
line  of  buckets  strung  out  in  every  direction  leading  to  the 
pump.  No  two  men  could  stand  this  constant  six  hours'  strain 
at  the  pump.  Therefore  they  were  often  relieved  by  those 
coming  for  water,  one  on  each  side  agreeing  to  pump  their 
own  buckets  full  and  then  giving  way  to  the  next  two,  and 
so  on  until  the  pumpers  were  rested.  For  this  supply  of  water 
due  credit  must  be  given. 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


7 


But  summer  diseases,  incident  to  the  use  of  the  almost 
stagnant  river  water  and  the  suffering  caused  by  the  sudden 
reduction  of  the  rations  to  a  point  merely  sufficient  to  sus- 
tain life,  had  already  obtained  a  foothold  among  the  men, 
and  the  sick  list  ran  into  the  thousands.  The  fresh  beef  was 
generally  as  good  as  could  be  expected.  But  the  quantity  to 
each  man  after  cooking  (boiling  was  the  never-varying  mode 
of  cooking)  may  easily  be  determined  when  it  is  considered 
at  twelve  ounces  "gross  weight"'  to  a  man.  My  own  ration 
(and  it  was  the  average)  amounted  to  from  four  to  six  bites, 
very  rarely  more,  and  depending  on  the  toughness  or  tender- 
ness of  the  meat.  We  soon  learned  that  there  was  more  solid 
sustenance  in  a  marrow  bone  (joint)  than  in  a  ration  of 
meat,  and'  it  gave  rise  to  quarrels  for  its  possession  until  in 
our  barrack  a  rule  was  adopted  (and  I  believe  the  rule  be- 
came general)  that  whenever  the  coveted  "bone  of  contention" 
fell  to  a  "mess"'  each  member  in  his  turn  received  it.  Care- 
fully denuded  of  all  meat  and  gristle,  if  it  happened  to  be  "full 
grown,"  the  recipient  would  take  his  bone,  chop  it  as  fine  as 
possible,  and  "boil  it  down"  in  saucepans  manufactured  from 
canteens  or  burnt-out  stovepipe ;  and  then,  if  he  had  good 
teeth,  nothing  would  remain  of  that  bone  that  strong  teeth 
could  crush. 

But  we  did  not  always  lose  the  soup  (beef  water).  The 
fat  was  carefully  skimmed  off  and  the  water,  when  not  too 
salty  to  drink,  dipped  out  and  set  away  to  cool  to  drink 
later,  and  every  third  day  a  portion  of  the  hominy  was  added, 
and  we  had  "hominy  soup."  That  was  feast  day.  But  we 
dicl  not  have  fresh  beef  continually;  better  if  we  had.  After 
a  while  our  diet  was  changed.  They  gave  us  for  a  change 
about  the  same  amount  gross  weight  of  "mess  beef."  Some 
of  it  was  fair  to  middling,  sometimes  good ;  but  sometimes, 
and  often,  green  with. age  and  odorous  to  a  degree;  and  our 
ration  of  good  white  bread  (it  was  good  bread)  was  changed 
to  a  square  fourteen  ounces  of  solid  corn  bread  made  of 
yellow  corn  with  a  taste  of  lye  from  too  much  soda  or  salera- 
tus  in  it  so  strong  that  it  made  it  unfit  to  eat.  I  saw  men 
vainly  endeavor  to  eat  it.  Always  a  great  eater  myself  and 
ravenous  as  my  appetite  was,  my  stomach  often  revolted 
I* 


8 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


against  it,  and  it  was  only  during  the  latter  part  of  the 
twenty-four  hours  between  rations  that  I  could  bring  myself 
down  to  the  task  of  putting  it  away  without  an  eruption  tak- 
ing place.  Then  again  we  were  given  "slabside"  bacon,  half 
a  pound  to  a  man  (so  they  said)  gross  weight.  Some  of  it 
was  good  as  slab  sides  go,  but  very  often  it  was  very  inferior 
and  strong  enough  to  "stand  alone." 

Months  of  this  salt  diet  and  lye  corn  bread,  and  then 
scurvy  became  epidemic — hundreds  of  cases,  and  nothing 
wherewith  to  combat  the  disease.  Men  walked  around  with 
mouths  so  sore  that  they  could  not  eat,  and  their  teeth  actually 
dropping  out  with  the  attempt ;  others  with  limbs  green  and 
distorted.  I  remember  one  case  particularly  in  Barrack  44. 
We  had  doctors  who  did  the  best  they  could,  and  I  believe 
tried  their  best  to  render  all  aid,  and  I  am  not  blaming  them. 
I  do  not  believe  there  was  indifference  on  the  part  of  the 
medicas  at  the  post.  I  simply  state  the  conditions  as  they 
existed.  At  last  the  disease  made  such  ravages  that  it  came 
to  the  knowledge  of  citizens  of  Rock  Island  City  and  aroused 
their  sympathies.  This  is  hearsay  [This  is  historical  fact. 
See  United  States  war  record  reports  on  Rock  Island  Prison. 
The  cruel  treatment  of  prisoners  by  the  commandant,  Colo- 
nel Johnson,  and  their  pitiable  condition  aroused  the  sympa- 
thies of  the  citizens  of  Rock  Island  to  such  an  extent  that  they 
brought  the  matter  before  Mr.  Lincoln,  who  ordered  an  in- 
vestigation that  resulted  in  a  measure  to  relieve  the  situa- 
tion of  its  horrors. — Ed.],  and  they  set  about  inaugurating 
measures  of  relief  by  subscription  of  such  vegetables  as  could 
be  had  at  that  season  of  the  year.  All  honor  to  them!  I  do 
know  that  each  man  afflicted  with  scurvy  was  given  raw  Irish 
potatoes  to  eat  as  a  curative,  and  was  told  that  those  potatoes 
had  been  subscribed  by  citizens  of  Rock  Island  City;  and 
further,  that  with  the  coming  of  the  potatoes  to  the  sick  the 
scurvy  began  to  lose  its  grip  and  was  finally  extinguished. 
How  long  it  prevailed,  I  cannot  remember,  as  I  was  myself 
under  the  weather  (though  not  from  scurvy)  a  goodly  part 
of  the  time,  and  took  no  note  of  time  or  events.  Neither  can 
I  remember  that  any  but  the  sick  were  supplied  with  the  po- 
tatoes. 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


9 


From  the  foregoing  some  may  say  that  we  were  not  so  bad 
off  for  rations  after  all.  I  will  admit  it  might  have  been 
worse,  but  will  not  admit  that  it  should  have  been  as  bad 
as  it  was.  At  first  sight  it  has  not  such  a  bad  face;  but  take 
a  lot  of  men  with  healthy  appetites  who  are  accustomed  to 
at  least  one  square  meal  in  a  week,  reveling  in  good  health, 
and  confine  them  within  restricted  limits,  cut  off  from  all 
outside  associations,  and  limit  them  to  a  loaf  of  bread  which 
baked  could  be  pressed  into  a  pint  cup  by  hand  and  not  be 
over  level  full  (I  saw  that  done  in  my  barrack,  No.  47)  and 
twelve  ounces  gross  weight  of  beef  or  equal  weight  of  mess 
beef  or  eight  (  ?)  ounces  gross  weight  of  bacon,  a  quart  of 
dry  hominy  every  ten  days  and  for  six  months  on  a  stretch 
without  a  break,  and  then  say  that  they  should  not  feel  that 
most  terrible  of  afflictions — hunger !  I  know  what  it  means, 
and  I  saw  others  who  felt  it  even  more  than  myself,  as  well 
as  some  who  did  not  seem  to  feel  it  at  all.  One  of  these  was 
in  my  barrack — Joe  Todd,  of  South  Carolina.  But  Joe  was -a 
freak. 

As  to  quarters,  we  were  housed  in  barracks  about  eighteen 
feet  wide  by  about  seventy  to  eighty  feet  long,  with  three 
tier  bunks  on  each  side  and  at  the  ends  and  three  tiers  or  * 
three  bunks  in  the  kitchen  at  the  back,  or  lower  end,  separated 
from  the  main  room  by  a  partition  of  upright  boards.  Each 
barrack  had  accommodations  for  about  one  hundred  men. 
These  barracks  would  have  been  comfortable  in  the  South. 
Even  there  they  were  all  that  could  be  desired  in  the  summer  ; 
but  they  were  not  comfortable  during  the  winter,  being  built 
of  one-inch  upright  boards  of  green  and  unseasoned  lumber 
with  three-inch  strips  over  the  cracks  that  shrank  in  the  sum- 
mer sun.  leaving  large  openings  for  the  cold  winter  winds 
to  enter.  We  had  two  coal  stoves  in  the  main  room,  and 
with  one  exception,  owing  to  a  snow  blockade  or  from  some 
other  cause,  had  sufficient  coal  to  keep  warm  by  huddling 
around  the  stoves ;  but  never  could  generate  heat  enough  to 
warm  the  room  during  the  blizzards  so  common  in  that  lati- 
tude, although  the  stoves  were  kept  at  a  red  heat. 

One  may  form  an  idea  of  the  intense  cold  when  it  is  stated 
that  at  one  time  during  the  winter  of  1864-65  the  frost  never 


to 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


melted  from  the  windows  within  nine  feet  of  the  stove  for  a 
whole  week,  and  from  the  last  week  of  February  up  to  the 
10th  of  March,  1864,  it  was  almost  as  cold,  which  to  men 
reared  in  the  South  was  a  hard  experience,  to  say  the  least, 
especially  when  we  lacked  sufficient  clothing,  which  was  the 
lot  of  the  majority.  As  for  myself,  I  was  captured  in  East 
Tennessee  on  the  27th  of  January  in  my  shirt  sleeves,  a 
light  cotton  undershirt,  with  a  captured  knit  woolen  over- 
shirt,  and  many  were  no  better  off  and  some  even  less  warmly 
fitted.  Our  barracks  had  good  tar  paper  roofs,  and  we  were 
protected  from  the  rain,  sleet,  and  snow,  if  not  from  the 
biting  frosts.  True,  we  were  given  clothing  (coats  to  those 
who  had  none,  of  ancient  "army  tunics,  discarded  pattern  of 
blue-black  cloth,  almost  black,  with  light  blue  headings)  and 
one  single  gray  blanket  to  each  man.  In  order  to  obtain  the 
most  possible  comfort  from  the  least  possible  material,  I  had 
sewn  together  the  edges  of  a  dog  tent,  which  by  some  fortu- 
nate chance  had  come  into  my  hands  at  Louisville,  and  had 
gathered  enough  leaves  into  it  to  make  an  excuse  for  a  mat- 
tress, which,  with  my  bunkmate's  blanket  and  my  own,  en- 
abled us  to  enjoy  some  comforts  that  others  did  not  possess. 
Altogether,  while  we  could  sleep  at  times  only  by  bunking  on 
the  floor  around  the  stoves,  we  might  have  been  worse  off, 
and  in  all  things  better  off. 

When  Christmas  day  came  nearer,  we  learned  that  for  once 
our  old  friend  the  sutler  would  be  allowed  to  come  in  and 
give  us  a  treat  for  Christmas — i.  'e.,  sell  us  flour ;  nothing  else, 
however.  We  were  naturally  anxious  to  get  flour,  not  having 
had  any  white  bread  for  a  long  time,  to  say  nothing  of  our 
hunger.  Christmas  eve  came,  and  with  it  came  Dart  with  two 
wagons  loaded,  and  expecting  to  reap  a  rich  harvest,  having 
laid  in  a  large  stock  for  the  occasion.  But  he  had  not  told  us 
beforehand  that  he  had  raised  the  price  from  $2.50  per  quar- 
ter barrel  to  $4,  and  great  was  his  surprise  when  he  found  he 
could  not  dispose  of  a  single  sack  among  the  hundreds  of 
hungry  men  that  crowded  around  his  wagons.  Argument  was 
useless.  I  heard  one  man  tell  him :  "I  have  money  and  could 
buy  all  I  want,  so  have  others;  but  there  are  hundreds  of 
others  who  cannot  at  that  price,  and  I  won't  set  the  price.  If 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


you'll  let  us  have  it  at  the  old  price  ($2.50),  we'll  buy;  but  if 
not,  you  can  take  it  out.  We  are  hungry,  but  we  won't  be 
held  up  for  any  such  price." 

Dart  communed  with  himself  for  a  bit,  then  turned  slowly 
toward  the  lower  gate,  and  drove  out,  followed  by  hundreds 
of  hungry  eyes.  But  not  one  single  man  asked  him  to  stop. 
A  principle  was  at  stake.  The  men  who  could  afford  to  buy 
refused  simply  because  hundreds  of  their  comrades  who  could 
have  bought  a  fourth  or  an  eighth  at  the  old  figure  could  not 
buy  at  the  new  rate  of  $16  per  barrel,  when  it  was  worth  only 
$8  in  the  market.  I  shall  not  repeat  what  Colonel  Johnson 
said  about  it,  because  I  could  not  vouch  for  its  truth,  since 
1  did  not  hear  him.  Yet  we  were  hungry.  Stray  (?)  dogs 
were  "requisitioned."  Rats  were  also  eagerly  hunted,  and  in 
our  barrack  all  points. of  egress  from  under  our  barrack  were 
carefully  blocked,  leaving  only  one  exit  beneath  each  window, 
and  then  men  would  station  themselves  at  the  window  with 
a  "gig;"  and  if  a  rat  -stuck  his  head  out,  the  gig  would  de- 
scend like  a  flash  of  lightning,  and — well,  sometimes  over- 
eagerness  caused  the  hunter  to  miss,  and  then  no  rat  stew  for 
him. 

I  helped  "hide"  two  dogs — one  an  old  long-eared  hound, 
the  other  Dart's  faithful  and  ever-watchful  bulldog,  whose 
round  head  did  duty  afterwards  as  a  football,  and  in  that  ca- 
pacity traveled  over  a  large  part  of  the  prison,  finally  by  an 
awkward  kick  being  sent  across  the  dead  line,  where  none 
dared  venture.  And  that  recalls  the  hardest  part  of  the  tale. 
We  read  on  a  tablet  erected  by  the  Woman's  Relief  Corps 
of  the  G.  A.  R.  at  Andersonville :  "May  2,  1864,  a  poor  one- 
legged'  prisoner  who  placed  one  hand  on  the  dead  line  while 
reaching  for  the  crutches  fallen  from  his  feeble  grasp  was 
mortally  wounded,  shot  by  a  Rebel  sentinel."  Knowing 
something  about  "dead  lines"  myself,  I  would  ask  those  ladies 
how  it  happened  that  this  soldier's  "crutches"  (which  means 
both  crutches)  fell  across  the  dead  line? 

I  remember  reading  of  that  or  a  similar  incident  when 
Wirz  was  on  trial,  with  illustration,  in  Harpefs  blasphemously 
lying  sheet,  if  I'm  not  mistaken,  and  it  was  charged  up  against 
Wirz  at  his  condemnation.    Only  then  it  was  stated  that  "the 


I  2 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


soldier  had  stumbled^  and  fell  on  the  dead  line,  and  was  shot 
as  he  essayed  to  recover  himself  by  the  Rebel  guard."  Now  1 
would  suggest  to  the  ladies  who  erected  that  tablet  that,  in  all 
fairness  to  that  '"Rebel  sentinel,"  they  in  the  interests  of 
truth  and  unbiased  history  revise  the  phraseology  of  that  in- 
scription and  give  him  (the  "Rebel  sentinel")  due  credit.  Get 
the  yarn  straight,  and  give  the  name  of  that  unfortunate  sol- 
dier. I  jemember,  too,  that  the  name  of  that  unfortunate 
could  not  be  learned  at  the  time  that  Wirz  was  on  trial,  al- 
though it  was  stated  that  Wirz's  counsel  had  demanded  it, 
and  was  turned  down  by  the  prosecution  with  the  declaration 
that  the  court  would  accept  the  allegation  as  having  been 
proved  by  ''competent  and  reliable  witness"  (?). 

Some  things  are  not  easily  forgotten.  [  remember  also  that 
while  Wirz  was  in  prison,  and  the  newspapers  were  manu- 
facturing a  character  to  saddle  him  with  and  hunting  up  wit- 
nesses to  swear  his  life  away  at  any  and  all  costs,  on  the 
last  Sunday  in  June,  accompanied  by  my  mother,  I  called 
upon  some  old-time  neighbors  whom  I  had  not  seen  for  a  full 
dozen  years  (and  with  whose  sons  and  daughters  I  had  at- 
tended the  same  school  during  two  sessions),  and  there  met 
their  oldest  son,  who  had  been  a  lieutenant  in  a  Pennsylvania 
regiment,  and  who  had  passed  seven  months  in  Andersonville 
and  was  supposed  to  know  something  about  the  occurrences 
there.  The  papers  were  full  of  Wirz  and  his  atrocities,  and, 
having  read  so  much  about  him,  I  was  glad  to  meet  one  who 
had  been  under  his  charge.  But  so  strong  was  my  fear  of  the 
revelation  of  a  probable  disagreeable  truth,  and  having  seen 
nothing  but  the  most  radical  Northern  papers  for  seventeen 
months,  consequently  only  one  side  of  a  story  of  "horrors," 
that  I  almost  feared  to  broach  the  subject,  lest  the  accusa- 
tions heralded  abroad  to  every  corner  and  nook  of  the  civilized 
world  should  be  confirmed  by  an  eyewitness  in  whose  entire 
reliability  I  had  every  confidence.  At  last  I  broached  the  sub- 
ject thus:  "How  long  were  you  in  Andersonville,  Jim?" 
"Seven  months,"  he  replied.  "Well,  now  I  wish  you  would 
tell  me  the  truth  about  that  place.  Was  it  really  as  bad  as 
the  papers  say  it  was?"  "No,  it  wasn't.  It  was  bad,  of  course. 
We  did  not  have  the  shelter  we  needed  because  we  were  too 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISOS. 


[3 


many,  and  we  did  not  have  food  enough  nor  medicines  for 
our  sick ;  but  I  guess  they  didn't  have  enough  themselves." 

I  then  asked  him  if  what  was  said  about  Captain  Wirz 
was  true.  His  answer  came  instantly :  "Not  that  I  know  of." 
Just  then  a  neighbor  came  in,  and  our  conversation  was  inter- 
rupted. But  that  was  his  last  word,  "Not  that  I  know  of." 
and  yet  he  had  been  a  prisoner  under  Wirz  seven  months. 
Some  one  may  ask:  "Who  was  this  lieutenant?"  I  answer: 
"Lieut.  James  Hastings,  oldest  brother  of  ex-Gov.  Dan  Has- 
tings, of  Pennsylvania." 

Our  ways  separated  there  that  day.  I  have  never  met  him 
since,  and  do  not  know  whether  he  is  still  living  or  not.  That 
is  one  part  of  the  tale,  and  gives  the  lie  direct  to  Tablet  No.  i 
at  Andersonville.  And  while  we  are  asked  to  allow  those  lies 
to  stand  unrefuted  in  our  midst  at  our  very  doors,  the  G.  A. 
R.  goes  into  spasms  on  learning  that  it  is  proposed  to 
erect  a  monument  to  Wirz  with  a  true  history  of  the  man 
and  his  office  inscribed  thereon,  that  those  who  come  after 
and  read  may  know  the  truth  as  it  is  revealed  in  the  records. 
But  even  if  all  that  was  charged  were  true,  would  that  justify 
the  retaliatory  measures  adopted  by  the  North? 

No  doubt  there  are  thousands — aye!  hundreds  of  thousands 
— of  old  soldiers  of  the  G.  A.  R.  and  throughout  the  North, 
and  in  the  South  as  well,  who  are  totally  ignorant  of  the 
truth  as  to  the  real  conditions  existing  at  the  military  prisons, 
both  in  the  North  and  the  South.  On  the  one  side  there  was 
an  utter  inability  to  properly  care  for  the  prisoners.  Will 
any  man  endowed  with  a  modicum  of  reasoning  power  or  a 
spark  of  the  spirit  of  fairness  stand  up  to-day  and  say  that 
the  South  could  properly  care  for  the  180,000  prisoners  held 
by  her  in  1864-65,  when  it  is  a  world-known  fact  that  she 
could  not  care  for  her  own  men  in  the  field  and  less  prop- 
erly for  her  sick? 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  a  well-established  fact  that  in  the 
North  every  facility  existed  for  the  proper  care  of  prisoners, 
both  well  and  sick;  and  if  those  prisoners  were  subjected  to 
any  undue  hardships,  it  was  simply  because  the  broad  spirit 
of  Christianity  was  lacking.  This  was  proven  by  the  re- 
taliatory measures  put  in  force  in  1864.    And  we  are  treated 


'4 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


to  the  spectacle  of  the  executive  and  administrative  power  of 
a-  great  and  Christian  people  wreaking  a  base  revenge  on 
prisoners  in  their  hands  because  of  the  unavoidable  ills  suf- 
fered by  their  own.  for  whose  relief  and  well-being  they 
themselves  zvould  not  raise  a  hand,  and  to  whom  they  refused 
every  measure  of  relief  which  lay  in  their  power  to  command. 

It  would  not  be  fair  to  charge  this  lack  of  succor  to  the 
people  of  the  North.  They  did  not  know.  All  the  measures 
of  relief  proposed  by  the  Confederate  government  were  care- 
fully hidden  away  from  the  public,  and  were  not  unearthed 
until  long  after  the  principal  actors  in  this  bloody  drama  and 
cold-blooded  conspirers  against  humanity  had  passed  from  the 
stage  of  life.  But  the  blot  remains,  black  and  damning. 
In  the  meantime,  as  a  cloak  to  hide  their  own  responsibility, 
the  condition  of  Federal  prisoners  in  the  South  was  held  up 
to  the  gaze  of  Northern  people  in  the  newspapers  and  period- 
icals with  pictures  of  horrors  inconceivable,  as  illustrating  the 
"hendishness  of  Jeff  Davis  and  his  government."  But  not 
one  word  about  the  measures  proposed  by  Jeff  Davis  to  the 
Washington  authorities  to  send  relief  to  their  men  in  the 
Southern  prisons  and  his  guarantee  that  that  relief  should  be 
given  by  their  own  doctors  and  only  to  their  own  men  for 
whom  it  was  intended.  And  it  was  also  carefully  hidden  from 
the  Northern  public  that  their  own  government  had  refused 
absolutely  to  send  a  single  doctor,  bottle  of  medicine,  pound 
of  provisions,  or  a  single  coat  or  shirt;  nor  did  it  let  them 
know  that  in  August,  1864,  Judge  Ould  proposed  to  de- 
liver all  the  sick  at  Andersonville  to  the  Washington  gov- 
ernment if  they  would  but  send  transports  to  Savannah  to 
carry  them  North  without  an  equivalent  in  exchange.  The 
offer  was  accepted.  But  in  order  to  prevent  these  men  from 
reaching  their  homes  (scattered  throughout  the  North  from 
Maine  to  the  Rocky  Mountains)  before  the  election  held  in 
November,  no  transports  were  sent  to  Savannah  until  in 
December;  while  in  the  meantime  hundreds  of  these  poor, 
sick,  unfortunate  prisoners,  hurried  from  Andersonville  as 
soon  as  possible  after  this  agreement  had  been  reached,  died 
during  the  long  waiting  for  transportation. 

What  a  picture  to  hold  up  to  the  gaze  of  the  world — a 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


'5 


government  of  civilized  people  letting  its  sick  die  by  the  hun- 
dreds rather  than  have  them  brought  home  to  tell  their 
friends  that  they  had  been  released  without  pledge  or  con- 
dition because  their  half-starved  captors  could  not  give  them 
the  care  they  needed  on  account  of  their  own  poverty,  and  the 
fact  that  their  government  in  whose  defense  they  had  bared 
their  breasts  to  the  storms  of  war  and  all  its  privations  and 
horrors  literally  refused  to  allow  any  relief  to  be  sent  them 
in  their  deep  distress !  Had  they  been  sent  for  immediately 
and  the  truth  through  them  become  known  to  the  Northern 
people,  it  would  have  put  a  powerful  weapon  into  the  hands 
of  the  opponents  of  the  administration  and  would  have  put 
Mr.  Lincoln's  candidacy  in  jeopardy.  "They  must  not  be 
brought  North  until  after  the  election,"  was  the  secret  order 
of  Stanton.    No!  let  them  die  rather  than  the  truth  be  known. 

O,  the  black,  damning  shame  of  it !  And  all  the  while 
those  unfortunates  were  dying  by  scores,  waiting  for  the  ships 
that  never  came.  No  stone  was  left  unturned  by  the  admin- 
istration's organs  to  impress  upon  the  Northern  public  the 
fact  that  the  whole  responsibility  for  the  "horrible  sufferings 
of  our  poor  men  in  those  Rebel  hell  holes"  rested  solely  with 
the  "fiendish  Rebels."  Thousands  may  ask:  "Could  such 
things  have  been?"  If  you  doubt,  go  to  the  records.  There 
is  the  record  of  those  bare,  cold,  hard  facts,  and  they  speak 
with  an  eloquence  which  no  tongue  or  pen  may  surpass. 

But  what  has  this  to  do  with  the  prisons  in  the  North? 
What  happened  in  them  was  but  the  sequence  of  all  this 
vituperation  and  calumny  directed  against  Jeff  Davis  and  his 
government.  Rock  Island  alone  shall  be  written  of  here. 
The  garrison  at  Rock  Island  when  I  was  there  consisted  of 
a  part,  or  whole  perhaps,  of  the  4th  Regiment  of  the  Reserve 
Corps,  Col.  A.  J.  Johnson  commanding  the  post,  the  108th 
Negro  Regiment  from  Kentucky,  and  the  43d  Iowa  "Gray- 
beards  ;"  and  after  the  latter  were  sent  to  Memphis,  near  the 
close  of  1864,  they  were  replaced  by  the  I92d  Illinois.  The 
officers  and  noncommissioned  officers  of  the  4th  Reserve 
Corps  acted  as  inside  or'  duty  officers,  and  as  a  rule  they 
were  decent  in  their  treatment  of  us.  I  have  no  complaint  to 
lay  against  them.  They  were  veterans.  Of  the  '  Graybeards," 
I** 


i6  ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 

I  have  no  complaint  to  make  as  far  as  I  know  personally,  ex- 
cept against  two  of  their  officers,  Captain  Hogendoble  (dubbed 
the  "Hogdriver"  by  the  boys  for  his  meanness),  sometimes  the 
provost  marshal,  and  a  lieutenant  named  Graham.  These  two 
were  almost  inseparable,  and  when  not  on  duty  would  always 
be  together,  and  were  about  as  congenial  a  pair  of  brutes  as 
could  be  found.  They  hated  a  Rebel  as  much  as  Colonel 
Johnson  himself,  abusing  the  prisoners  upon  any  occasion 
'and  without  provocation.  Brutal  tyrants  both  of  them  and 
cowards,  for  no  brave  man  will  insult,  abuse,  and  strike  a 
prisoner  when  he  knows  that  it  is  death  for  the  prisoners 
to  strike  back. 

Hogendoble  and  Graham  did  both.  I  myself  felt  the  stings 
of  Hogendoble's  tongue  and  the  blow  of  his  coward's  fist 
because  he  was  accidentally  hit  by  our  ball  during  a  game, 
for  which  he  would  accept  neither  apology  nor  excuse ;  but, 
like  the  coward  he  was,  applying  to  me  every  vile  epithet  that 
would  come  to  his  base  mind,  while  trying  to  strike  me  in 
the  face  with  his  clinched  fist  and  then  threatening  me  with 
his  pistol  because  I  would  not  stand  up  and  meekly  take  his 
blows. 

His  foul  epithets,  with  his  revolver  thrust  almost  against 
my  face  and  a  threat  to  blow  my  "d — d  brains  out"  if  I  did 
not  stand  up  and  take  the  blows  aimed  at  my  face,  were  more 
than  I  could  quietly  submit  to;  and,  notwithstanding  I  was 
looking  squarely  into  the  muzzle  of  his  pistol,  which  just  then 
seemed  to  have  a  bore  as  big  as  a  Gatling  gun,  I  turned  my 
head  and  caught  the  blow  on  my  ear.  This,  coupled  with  the 
expression  "notion  to  blow  your  d — d  head  off,"  was  more 
than  human  nature  could  endure  in  silence;  and,  looking  him 
fairly  in  the  eyes,  I  flung  some  of  his  own  choice  epithets 
back  at  him :  "Shoot,  d — n  you !  Shoot,  you  coward !  I 
can't  help  myself.  I  apologized  for  the  ball  having  struck 
you  unintentionally,  and  you  will  accept  neither  apology 
nor  excuse.  Now  shoot !"  He  stared  at  me  a  bit  after  I 
had  relieved  myself,  and  then  with  another  string  of  curses 
ordered  me  to  follow  him,  which  I  did.  Not  knowing  his 
intentions,  and  at  that  particular  moment,  with  my  blood  boil- 
ing, not  much  caring,  he  led  the  way  outside  to  the  guardhouse. 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


and  ordered  that  I  be  ornamented  with  a  ball  and  chain  "for 
a  month."  I  was  well  satisfied  to  get  off  so  cheaply.  We 
had  a  trick  of  unlocking  fetters  at  night,  though  ostensibly 
we  were  never  without  them. 

It  was  but  a  short  while  after  that  the  "Graybeards"  were 
sent  to  Memphis  to  participate  in  the  drubbing  given  them 
by  Forrest.  And  news  came  to  us  that  the  "Hogdriver"  had 
received  a  Rebel's  bullet  in  the  hindquarter,  which  would  for 
some  time  oblige  him  to  take  his  meals  standing. 

That  was  my  own  experience  with  Hogendoble ;  but  stories 
were  rife  of  his  many  mean  acts  toward  other  prisoners  and 
well  authenticated.  But  I  can  mention  only  what  I  saw  and 
remember  fully.  With  Graham  I  never  came  in  contact;  but 
I  saw  one  victim  of  his  wrath  with  the  marks  on  his  face,  and 
obtained  the  particulars  from  his  barrack  mates  as  well,  and 
this  was  the  way  of  it :  Graham,  accompanying  the  orderly 
who  called  the  roll  one  morning  (I  believe  he  was  "officer 
of  the  day"  that  day),  found  fault  with  one  of  the  men  in  the 
line  and  ordered  him  to  "stand  straight  and  dress  the  line." 
The  prisoner  was  quite  unwell,  barely  able  to  be  on  his  feet, 
and  inclined  forward  instead  of  standing  erect.  This  was  not 
considered  by  Graham,  who  with  an  oath  again  ordered  the 
poor  devil  to  straighten  up ;  and  not  being  obeyed  in  a  man- 
ner to  suit  him.  he  seized  the  man  by  the  collar,  jerked  him 
out  of  the  ranks,  struck  him  with  his  fist,  forced  him  to-  the 
floor,'  and  kicked  him  on  the  body  and  head,  all  the  while 
cursing  him  with  anything  that  came  to  his  foul  mouth. 
Graham  was  an  inveterate  gambler,  and  took  loss  with  a 
bad  grace.  On  one  occasion  when  he  was  playing  with  some 
of  the  boys  in  one  of  the  barracks  he  lost.  Here  let  me  say 
that  we  had  gamblers  among  us  in  prison  as  well  as  in  the 
field,  and  they  generally  had  money.  Some  of  the  officers 
would  come  in  for  a  game  of  poker  occasionally,  and  very 
often  were  worsted.  So  in  this  case  Graham  and  Hogendoble 
came  out  losers.  Graham  had  put  up  his  last  dollar ;  and  see- 
ing that  he  had  lost,  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  accusing  the  others 
of  being  "cheats,"  raked  in  the  stakes,  put  them  in  his  pocket, 
and  stalked  out.  Although  this  is  "hearsay,"  I  had  it  from 
some  pf  the  players  in  the  game. 


iS 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


In  contrast  I  will  cite  another  case  which  happened  in  the 
same  barrack  and  with  some,  if  not  all,  of  the  same  players. 
Lieut.  Ben  Wagner,  of  the  4th  Reserves,  was  also  a  gambler. 
"Big  Ben,"  as  we  familiarly  called  him,  who  always  had 
a  kind  word  and  smile  for  every  one,  was  playing  one  day, 
and  was  "cleaned  out,"  to  use  his  own  laughing  expression, 
as  I  heard  him  myself.  He  had  staked  his  fine  gold  watch 
and  chain  and  a  fine  ring,  and  lost — rather  he  had  lost  "on 
tick :"  after  losing  his  ready  cash,  he  left  his  watch,  chain, 
and  ring  as  security  for  the  debt.  We  did  not  see  "Big  Ben" 
again  for  some  time  except  on  duty.  Then  one  day  he  came 
in  and  redeemed  the  articles  he  had  left  "in  soak."  This  is 
merely  offered  as  an  offset  to  the  other  case.  But  Big  Ben 
Wagner  was  a  man,  and  more,  a  humane  man  and  gentleman, 
and  it  would  be  a  pleasure  to  meet  him  anywhere  again. 

There  were  others — Lieutenant  Layton,  who  had  charge  of 
our  correspondence  and  kept  our  cash  when  any  came  in  let- 
ters, giving  us  a  receipt  for  it,  which  was  the'  equivalent  of 
cash  with  the  sutler  for  any  kind  of  goods  except  food  after 
June  10,  1864.  Layton  was  always  a  gentleman  in  his  deal- 
ings with  us  within  the  range  of  my  knowledge  and  ex- 
perience. Captain  Lawrence  was  the  commissary,  and  was 
always  gentlemanly  in  his  dealings  with  us.  Captain  Robin- 
son, who  replaced  Hogendoble  as  provost  marshal,  was  a 
gentlerrlan  and  most  considerate,  one  of  the  kind  one  is  glad 
to  meet  in  after  years.  Of  Lieutenant  Colonel  Carraher  I 
have  not  a  word  to  say  in  condemnation.  Some  may,  and  no 
doubt  did ;  but  from  what  I  myself  heard  I  think  he  was  un- 
justly censured;  and  if  at  times  he  appeared  to  act  with  undue 
severity  (and  I  never  knew  of  Tris  having  done  so),  it  must 
be  borne  in  mind  that  he  was  himself  under  the  orders  of  a 
man  who  showed  us  no  consideration  whatever,  as  is  indi- 
cated by  his  reply  to  critics  and  accusers  dated  November 
23,  1864.    But  of  that  later. 

On  one  occasion,  when  some  of  the  boys  were  complaining 
to  Colonel  Carraher  of  the  hardships  imposed  upon  us  by  the 
retaliatory  measures  of  the  government  and  the  injustice  of 
putting  us  on  half-starvation  rations,  I  was  listening  and 
heard  all  that  was  said,  and  I  heard  his  answer,  which  marked 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON.  19 

him  as  being  either  a  man  of  humane  impulses  or  a  con- 
summate hypocrite.  How  well  I  remember !  "Yes,  boys,  I 
know  it's  hard;  and  if  I  could  help  it,  I  would;  but  I'm  only 
second  in  command,  and  I  must  obey  orders  as  well  as  you. 
I  can't  change  it."  And  a  subsequent  action  of  his  only  con- 
firmed the  good  opinion  then  formed  of  him.  But  of  that  later 
also. 

In  sharp  contrast  to  the  foregoing  was  the  conduct  of  "Cap- 
tain Bucher,"  of  the  108th.  He  was  about  as  mean  as  men 
are  made.  I  had  a  little  encounter  (in  words)  with  him 
myself  on  a  certain  occasion,  from  which  he  did  not  emerge 
with  flying  colors.  However,  his  meanness  did  not  manifest 
itself  in  the  use  of  foul  language.  That,  at  least,  was  to  his 
credit  in  so  far  as  I  knew. 

Abuse  of  all  military  custom  and  authority  was  shown  by 
requiring  prisoners  at  Rock  Island  to  work  outside  of  the 
prison,  felling  trees,  digging  up  stumps,  and  clearing  out  the 
underbrush  without  pay  or  other  remuneration  than  one-eighth 
of  a  plug  of  navy  tobacco,  sold  at  eighty  cents  a  plug  by  the 
sutler,  and  at  first  nothing  -whatever  was  paid.  Details  were 
taken  from  the  different  barracks  of  ten  men  from  each,  be- 
ginning with  No.  1,  the  men  alternating  as  for  guard  and 
picket  duty  in  service.  This  had  been  going  on  before  I  ar- 
rived in  the  prison.  In  fact,  I  learned  that  it  began  almost 
with  the  arrival  of  the  first  lot  of  prisoners.  I  protested 
against  this  detailing  of  prisoners  of  war  to  do  work  for 
which  they  received  no  pay. 

In  March,  1864,  one  raw,  cold  morning,  I  and  nine 
others  from  my  barrack  were  detailed  for  outside  work. 
I  went  with  the  detail  as  far  as  the  guardhouse  outside, 
where  we  were  halted  and  axes,  picks,  and  spades  given 
us,  and  then  we  were  ordered  to  move  off  around  the 
corner  of  the  prison  wall.  The  others  moved  off,  but 
I  stood  fast.  The  sergeant  of  the  guard  asked  me  rather 
brusquely:  "Well,  why  ain't  you  moving?"  I  told  him  twas 
because  I  did  not  intend  to.  "And  why  not?"  "Well,  simply 
for  this  reason :  we  are  prisoners  of  war,  and  you  have  no 
right  to  take  us  outside  of  the  prison  to  do  government  work 
without  pay."    "So  that's  it,  is  it?    Well,  we'll  call  the  lieu- 


zo 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


tenant  and  see  what  he  says."  The  lieutenant  came  and  the 
situation  was  explained,  and  there  is  where  I  first  became  ac- 
quainted with  "Big  Ben."  He  also  wanted  to  know  why.  I 
repeated  to  him  my  reasons  for  refusing  to  work  outside,  and 
ended  the  argument  with :  "We  are  prisoners  of  war,  and 
not  convicts."  He  grew  red  in  the  face,  and  then  after  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation  said,  "Well,  I'll  have  to  report  this  to  Colo- 
nel Johnson ;"  and  after  asking  my  name  and  barrack  told 
the  sergeant  to  turn  me  back  inside.  I  returned  to  my  bar- 
rack, and  the  orderly,  "Uncle"  Jim  Ford,  of  Owenton,  Ky., 
began  catechising  me,  and  I  told  him  the  story  of  my  re- 
bellion. His  only  comment  was :  "Well,  of  course  you're 
right ;  we  all  know  it  and  feel  the  same  way ;  but  what  can 
we  do?"  I  advanced  the  point  that  if  we  all  stood  together 
and  refused  they  would  not  dare  do  it:  but  that  if  we 
didn't  assert  our  rights  they  would  make  us  do  the  labor  for 
nothing  and  charge  the  government  for  full  wages  and  put 
the  money  in  their  pockets.  And  to  this  day  I  have  always 
believed  that  was  done. 

During  that  summer  a  lot  of  prisoners  from  Price's  army 
were  brought  in,  between  seven  hundred  and  eight  hundred, 
among  them  some  officers  who  were  shortly  after  sent  East, 
with  the  exception  of  two  or  three  who  disguised  (?)  them- 
selves as  privates  in  order  to  remain  with  some  of  their 
friends  and  companions  in  arms,  one  colonel  whose  name 
1  cannot  recall,  and  a  Captain  Roberts.  They  were  made 
acquainted  with  the  "work  feature"  in  vogue.  The  colonel 
asked  Colonel  Johnson  to  pay  him  a  visit.  Soon  Colonel 
Johnson  came;  and  though  I  was  not  near  enough  to  hear 
all  that  was  said,  I  heard  enough  to  understand.  "Colonel, 
this  must  be  stopped.  I  shall  communicate  what  I  have 
learned  to  my  government."  I  learned  from  others  that  he 
further  told  Colonel  Johnson  that  "if  he  could  find  volunteers 
to  work  at  any  wages  he  chose  to  pay  them  or  no  wages  at 
all,  well  and  good;  but  to  force  men  to  go  outside  of  the 
prison  to  work  for  nothing  or  next  to  nothing  [holding  up  a 
square  of  plug  some  one  had  given  him  for  the  occasion], 
this  five  cents'  worth  of  tobacco — sir,  I  tell  you  it  must  stop." 
Colonel  Johnson's  back  was  turned  to  me,  and  I  could  not  see 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


his  face;  but  others  told  me  he  turned  red  in  the  face,  and 
finally  agreed  to  adopt  the  Confederate's  plan  and  call  for 
volunteers.  This  was  done  and  wages  paid  (?).  One  ten- 
cent  loaf  of  bread  for  a  day's  work  found  all  the  workers 
needed,  besides  hundreds  more  who  would  have  been  glad 
of  the  chance. 

This  went  on  until  the  spring  of  1865.  When  the  Con- 
federacy was  in  the  throes  of  death,  the  detailing  again  began. 
This  time  a  whole  barrack  would  be  detailed  at  a  time,  leav- 
ing only  the  cooks,  the  orderly,  and  those  too  sick  to  walk. 
And  it  was  on  one  of  these  occasions  that  Captain  Bucher 
showed  his  brutal  character,  a  fair  exterior  (he  was  a  hand- 
some fellow)  hiding  the  brute.  Bucher  was  superintending 
the  getting  out  of  a  detail  from  Barrack  61  directly  in  the 
rear  of  47;  and  after  all  but  one  were  out  in  ranks,  the 
doughty  Captain  saw  one  man  remaining  in  the  barrack  sitting 
by  the  stove  (the  weather  still  being  cool)  with  a  blanket 
over  his  shoulders.  He  called  out  sharply :  "Here,  you  in 
there,  come  out  here  and  fall  in  !*'  The  man,  who  had  been 
under  the  doctor's  care  for  some  time  and  was  just  recovering 
from  a  siege  of  fever  and  still  weak,  arose  slowly  and,  com- 
ing to  the  door,  told  the  captain  that  he  was  unwell,  just  re- 
covering from  a  "spell- of  sickness,"  and  "not  able  to  work." 
"Come  out  here,  I  tell  you,  or  I'll  pull  you  out!"  The  man 
came  down  the  steps  slowly,  still  protesting  that  he  was  un- 
able to  work.  And  I  and  all  those  who  saw  him  knew  that 
he  was  unfit.  His  own  barrack  mates  spoke  up  for  his  ex- 
emption. This  only  seemed  to  aggravate  the  case.  The  Cap- 
tain in  a  rage  seized  the  poor  fellow  by  the  shoulder,  whirled 
him  around,  pushed  him  forward,  at  the  same  time  giving 
him  a  kick  behind  which,  had  it  not  been  for  falling  against 
the  man  in  front  of  him,  would  have  thrown  him  forward  on 
the  ground. 

This  was  more  than  I  could  quietly  endure,  and  I  sang  out : 
"You  d — d  brute !"  I  knew  the  risk,  but  could  not  help  it. 
There  were  perhaps  a  dozen  of  us  standing  at  the  kitchen  door 
of  47,  and  we  all  had  the  same  feelings— a  desire,  to  strangle 
the  beast.    He  glared  at  us  for  a  moment,  and  then  gave  the 


22 


ROCK  ISLAND.  PRISON. 


order  to  "Forward !  and  step  lively."  That  was  the  last  time 
that  I  can  remember  having  seen  Bucher. 

We  cannot  accuse  any  officer  there  of  ever  having  "shot  a 
prisoner,"  though  there  is  little  doubt  that  such  brutes  as 
Hogendoble,  Graham,  and  Bucher  need  not  have  been  begged 
to  do  so.  That  kind  of  work  was  delegated  to  the  guards, 
and  a  few  instances  herein  given  will  demonstrate  their  ability 
to  do  so.  There  were  many  men  among  our  guards,  both 
officers  and  privates,  who  were  both  honorable  and  humane — 
men  who  no  doubt  were  shamed  by  the  actions  of  their  fel- 
lows, men  who  could  not  bring  themselves  to  sanction  any 
act  of  brutality  practiced  upon  us. 

My  own  experience  is  hardly  worth  mentioning.  For  rebel- 
ling against  work  I  was  triced  up  by  the  wrists  to  a  tree  on 
the  main  avenue  with  a  clothesline,  with  my  toes  only  resting 
on  the  ground,  for  four  short  hours  of  sixty  long  minutes 
each,  under  a  gray,  sunless  sky,  with  a  sharp  March  wind  blow- 
ing across  the  frozen  river  and  cutting  through  my  scant 
clothing  till  my  very  marrow  seemed  frozen.  But  I  must 
say  for  the  old  German  corporal  who  triced  me  up  that  he 
did  it  as  humanely  as  his  orders  permitted.  He  made  me  pull 
down  the  sleeves  of  my  jacket  (one  given  me  by  a  barrack 
mate,  William  H.  Gregory,  of  South  Carolina)  and  tied  the 
line  over  them  in  a  manner  to  not  too  much  bruise  my  wrists. 
T  always  think  kindly  of  the  old  man  for  his  kindness  of  ac- 
tion as  well  as  his  words :  "I  don'd  like  to  do  dis,  put  I  haf 
my  orters.  Pull  town  your  jacket  shleeves,  so  I  kin  tie 
roundt  dem,  und  den  idt  von'd  pe  so  padt.  I  don'd  vant  to 
hurd  you  more  as  I  ken  helb  id."  He  was  a  Dutchman,  but 
he  was  far  more  humane  than  many  of  my  own  countrymen. 

After  four  hours  of  torture,  the  old  man  came  and,  in  his 
own  vernacular,  "tied  me  loose."  My  arms  refused  to  drop, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  reach  up  to  unfasten  the  line  from 
my  wrists.  The  least  attempt  to  bring  my  stiffened  arms 
down  was  excruciating.  My  hands,  arms,  and  body  were 
blue  and  purple  in  spots  and  my  finger  tips  white  with  the 
cold.  The  old  man  shook  his  head  and  ejaculated :  "Dat  vas 
too  badt.  Now  go  mid  your  parrack  and  git  you  varmedt  oop, 
und  got  your  arms  roobedt  down.    Too  badt."    Thus  with 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


n 


my  hands  up  in  the  air  I  walked  to  my  barrack,  where  Uncle 
Jim  Ford,  Tom  Herndon,  Abbey,  and  others  got  my  jacket 
off,  and  by  vigorous  rubbing  and  chafing  of  joints  and  muscles 
got  my  arms  down;  but  warmth  did  not  come.  A  chill  seized 
me.  and  they  got  me  into  my  bunk  and  piled  about  a  dozen 
blankets  on  top  of  me.  I  was  not  yet  warm  when  my  old 
corporal  came  for  me,  took  me  out  to  the  guardhouse,  and 
invested  me  with  a  32-pound  ball  and  six  feet  of  chain.  I 
wore  it  a  month  in  daytime.  But  I  was  never  detailed  again 
until  May,  1865. 

Wanton  shooting  of  prisoners  and  the  unspeakable  treachery 
of  guards  form  about  as  black  a  chapter  of  crime  as  any  ever 
recorded,  and  it  is  one  phase  of  our  prison  life  not  found  in 
the  government  records  of  Rock  Island.  Much  ado  was  made 
about  Captain  Wirz  having  shot  a  prisoner  with  his  own  pis- 
tol ;  and  for  that  crime  and  others  falsely  imputed  to  him,  as 
was  afterwards  shown,  he  was  hung  and  his  name  and  mem- 
ory blackened  by  the  very  ones  who  had  winked  at  the  murder 
of  prisoners  in  their  own  prisons. 

It  is  not  conceivable  that  the  authorities  at  Washing- 
ton did  not  know  what  was  being  done  at  the  different 
prisons  of  the  North.  If  Wirz  was  truly  guilty,  hav- 
ing himself  shot  a  prisoner  with  or  without  cause,  was  he 
any  more  guilty  of  murder  than  was  Col.  A.  J.  Johnson,  who 
never  punished  a  single  one  of  his  men  for  having  wantonly 
and  without  the  least  cause  shot  prisoners  to  death  in  broad 
daylight  or  in  the  night?  I  was  a  witness  to  four  cases  of  the 
kind — three  in  daylight  and  one  in  the  night — witness  to  the 
shooting,  and  not  simply  viewing  the  victims,  after  death. 

I  defy  any  one  to  produce  any  authentic  record  of  punish- 
ment meted  out  to  any  guard  at  Rock  Island  for  having  shot 
a  prisoner  or  for  having  shot  into  the  barracks  during  the 
night  after  "taps,"  at  any  and  all  hours,  without  the  least 
cause  or  provocation,  but  with  the  sole  intention  to  kill  or 
maim.  If  any  such  record  can  be  shown,  I  will  make  all  due 
and  honorable  reparation  within  my  power.  And  in  what 
follows  will  be  found  evidence  that  no  punishment  was  ever 
awarded  for  the  crimes  committed. 

There  was  a  "dead  line"  around  the  prison  on  the  inside. 


24 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


On  the  north  and  south  sides  parallel  with  the  river  a  ditch 
about  three  feet  wide  by  about  one  and  a  half  deep  was  dug, 
and  about  forty  feet  from  the  fence  and  over  this  were  built 
the  "sinks"  at  the  end  of  each  cross  street.  This  constituted 
the  dead  line,  and  every  man  knew  that  to  cross  that  ditch 
day  or  night  without  permission  was  to  invite  a  bullet,  and 
I  never  knew  of  any  one's  attempting  to  force  it.  except  as 
will  appear  hereafter.  At  the  upper  and  lower  ends  of  the  in- 
closure  the  dead  line  was  a' mere  drain  not  more  than  a  foot 
wide  and  six  inches  deep,  a  board  forming  the  bottom  and 
one  ripped  in  two  forming  the  sides  and  not  more  than  twenty- 
five  feet  from  the  fence. 

In  what  I  here  relate  I  can  give  no  dates,  and  in  only  five 
cases  can  T  give  the  number  of  the  barrack  to  which  the 
parties  belonged,  and  with  only  four  individuals  can  I  give  the 
names  of  the  parties  shot.  Nor  can  I  give  the  cases  in  posi- 
tive sequence,  though  each  and  every  one  is  painted  in  un- 
dying  colors  on  my  memory.  The  first  was  the  case  of  "Tom" 
Callahan,  well  known  and  popular,  a  personal  friend  of 
"Uncle"  Jim  Ford  and  "Tom"  Herndon.  of  my  barrack. 
Tom  had  money — gold.  He  wanted  to  be  free,  and,  like  many 
others,  found  it  a  key  to  unlock  the  bars  if  not  the  gates  of 
his  prison.  He  struck  up  a  bargain  with  the  sentry,  a  black 
negro  of  the  108th,  whose  beat  was  from  the  upper  corner  on 
the  river  side  to  about  the  lower  end  of  Barrack  No.  27.  A 
$20  gold  piece  was  the  price,  which  was  passed  in  some  way 
to  the  negro,  who  was  to  go  on  guard  again  at  10  p.m.,  and 
then  Tom  was  to  crawl  to  where  one  of  the  upright  boards 
of  the  fence  lacked  about  six  inches  of  reaching  the  ground. 
This  made  it  an  easy  start,  and  by  very  little  work  enough 
of  the  loose  soil  could  be  scraped  away  to  enable  a  man  to 
crawl  through.  At  the  appointed  hour  Callahan  crawled  to  the 
spot  indicated,  opposite  Barrack  13,  and  was  industriously  dig- 
ging his  way  out  (who  can  say  with  what  hopes  and  visions?) 
when  steps  were  heard  overhead.  The  sentry  was  coming 
from  the  corner  with  even  tread,  slowly,  steadily,  without  haste. 
Callahan  hears,  but  heeds  not,  for  his  $20  gold  piece  is  in  the 
negro's  pocket.  Industriously  he  digs ;  each  scoop  of  earth 
removed  brings  him  that  much  nearer  liberty.    One  or  two 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


2  5 


friends  in  13  who  were  in  the  secret  were  watching  at  the 
windows.  The  night  was  dark,  but  the  sentry  could  be  out- 
lined plainly  against  the  sky.  He  halts  in  his  tramp  directly 
above  the  unsuspecting  man  fifteen  feet  below.  Soon  the 
hole  will  be  wide  enough  and'  deep  enough,  and  then?  There 
is  a  silent  movement  by  the  treacherous  black  above;  then  the 
gun  comes  from  his  shoulder,  the  muzzle  is  dropped  over  the 
guard  rail,  pointing  straight  down  between  the  shoulders  of 
the  liberty-loving  digger  below.  A  flash  and  a  report,  awak- 
ening the  sleeping  tenants  of  the  barracks  with  a  start,  and 
Callahan  is  free. 

Uncle  Jim  was  in  the  secret,  awake  and  on  the  qui  vive, 
and  as  I  raised  up  on  my  bunk  I  heard  him  say :  "Poor  Tom  ! 
he's  gone."  Then  I  firsi:  learned  who  "Tom"  was.  After 
roll  call  in  the  morning,  I  went  with  him  and  others  around 
to  13,  and  there  we  saw  Callahan  still  lying  on  his  face. 
Shortly  after  a  lieutenant  with  men  and  a  light  wagon  came 
in,  and  they  took  up  the  corpse,  put  it  (not  roughly)  into  the 
wagon,  and  drove  out — Rock  Island's  first  murder,  but  not  the 
last. 

A  short  time  after  this  murder  we  were  awakened  just  at 
daybreak  by  a  shot  at  the  upper  end  of  the  prison.  Again 
I  went  as  soon  as  I  could  get  away.  This  time  it  was  at 
Barrack  No.  2.  One  of  the  men,  name  unknown,  had  opened 
the  door,  stepped  to  the  second  step  as  near  as  we  could 
figure  from  his  height,  had  closed  the  door  behind  him, 
faced  around  to  descend  to  the  ground  just  in  time  to  catch 
the  bullet  of  the  murderous  negro  near  the  upper  gate  full 
in  the  breast.  He  fell  without  a  groan  to  the  ground,  from 
which  his  comrades  picked  him  up  and  carried  him  inside 
and  laid  him  on  the  floor.  While  I  was  there  the  officer  of 
the  guard  came  and  demanded  to  know  the  cause  of  the  shot, 
addressing  the  sentry.  "I  shot  a  man  there."  "What  did  you 
shoot- him  for?"  "'Case  he  was  across  de  dead  line."  The 
officer  turned  and  asked  where  the  man  was  who  was  shot, 
and  was  shown  the  man  lying  on  the  floor.  "Well,  I'll  send  in 
the  wagon  for  him,"  he  said,  and  turned  to  go,  when  one  of 
the  men  called  to  him,  "Lieutenant,  please  look  at  this,"  point- 
ing to  the  bullet  hole  in  the  door  about  three  inches  above  the 


2  6 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


knob  and  the  mark  of  the  bullet  on  the  footboard  of  the 
middle  bunk  next  to  the  door  where  it  had  been  struc'.< 
diagonally,  the  bullet  glancing  off.  (It  was  only  the  board 
that  saved  the  feet  of  one  of  the  men  sleeping  on  the  bunk.) 
He  says :  "He  was  across  the  dead ,  line,  which  is  six  feet 
from  the  foot  of  the  four  steps  to  the  ground,  and  the  bullet 
hole  is  above  the  knob  of  the  door.  If  he  had  been  only  on 
the  ground  at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  the  bullet  that  made  that 
hole  would  have  passed'  above  his  head  by  two  feet.  And  he 
is  shot  through  the  breast." 

The  lieutenant  looked  around  at  us  dumb,  and  then  turned 
without  a  word  and  walked  away — Murder  No.  2.  We  waited 
for  a  while  to  see  whether  the  sentry  would  be  relieved ;  he 
was  not  until  the  regular  relief  went  on  guard.  We  heard 
that  he  had  been  put  under  arrest  pending  an  investigation. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  some  of  those  same  men  in  No.  2  reported, 
and  the  report  was  not  denied,  that  twelve  days  later  "that 
same  negro  came  on  the  parapet  with  the  relief  guard  with 
the  chevrons  of  a  corporal  on  his  arms."  I  do  not  vouch 
for  this.    But  that  was  the  report. 

Again,  two  young  men  of  Barrack  55,  on  my  row  and  next 
to  the  dead  line,  concluded  a  bargain  with  the  two  guards 
whose  beats  met  opposite  55  to  allow  them  to  climb  the  fence. 
Again  the  inducement  was  a  "double  eagle."  They  con- 
structed a  short  ladder  in  the  barrack,  and  at  the  given  hour 
of  a  dark  night  slipped  across  the  dead  line  in  the  deep 
shadow,  set  their  ladder  against  the  fence,  and  began  to 
climb.  It  lacked  at  least  four  feet  of  reaching  the  top,  but 
with  the  promised  help  of  the  sentries  they  expected  to  get 
over.  The  two  sentries  were  above  and  ready.  When  the 
first  had  about  reached  the  top,  two  guns  were  pushed  down, 
two  flashes,  two  reports  in  quick  succession,  and  the  topmost 
man  tumbled  from  the  ladder,  bored  through  from  the  shoul- 
der down.  The  other  at  the  bottom  had  just  set  his  foot  on 
the  lower  rung  of  the  ladder  and  caught  the  bullet  in  the 
inner  thigh,  severing  the  main  artery.  He  rushed  back  into 
the  barrack,  the  blood  spouting  at  every  leap.  They  set  him 
on  a  seat,  and  within  ten  minutes  he  too  was  free — free  as  the 
comrade  who  lay  by  the  wall.    Murders  Nos.  3  and  4,  and 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


2  7 


by  whom?  Negroes?  No!  By  white  men,  by  men  of  their 
own  race  and  blood,  had  Graham  and  Stephens  been  lured 
to  their  death.  Can  Andersonville,  Salisbury,  Libby,  or  any 
other  Southern  prison  furnish  a  like  record  of  base  treachery? 
With  all  the  crimes  imputed  to  them,  they  have  never  yet 
been  accused  of  such  baseness. 

This  ended  any  attempts  at  bribery  or  scaling  or  burrowing 
out  under  the  walls,  except  by  tunnels  from  under  the  bar- 
racks next  to  the  fence.  The  lamps  attached  to  the  fence, 
throwing  their  light  inward,  were  reenforced  by  like  lamps 
set  up  on  boards  driven  into  the  ground  at  the  dead  line, 
midway  of  the  lamps  on  the  wall,  throwing  their  light  against 
the  wall,  thus  lighting  the  dark  spaces  between  the  wall  lamps. 
This  frustrated  any  attempt  to  approach  the  wall  even  during 
the  darkest  night.  One  thing  which  must  be  plainly  under- 
stood is  that  prisoners  were  allowed  free  access  to  the  sinks 
day  and  night.  One  night  Tom  Jarrett,  of  47,  was  obliged  to 
go  to  the  sink  about  eleven  o'clock.  It  was  a  dark  night. 
Promiscuous  shooting  had  been  indulged  in  during  the  nights 
following  the  attempt  of  Graham  and  Stephens  to  escape,  Bar- 
rack 55  being  a  special  target.  Men  feared  to  step  outside  of 
their  quarters  after  dark,  and  with  just  cause.  Jarrett  was  a 
simple-minded,  good-natured  fellow,  liked  by  every  one,  and 
was  afiflicted  with  that  peculiar  disease  of  the  sight  known  as 
"moon  blindness,"  and  at  night  he  was  as  "blind  as  a  bat." 
But  he  knew  the  way  to  the  sink  by  feeling  from  one  barrack 
to  the  other.  He  had  just  reached  No.  55,  and  was  feeling  his 
way  along  the  wall  when  the  sentry  on  the  parapet  (a  white 
man,  too)  called  out :  "Halt !"  We  had  been  more  or  less  ap- 
prehensive, and  were  expecting  trouble.  We  heard  the  chal- 
lenge and  then  Tom's  answer:  "Don't  shoot!  I'm  blind." 
Hardly  had  the  words  left  his  mouth  when  we  heard  a  shot, 
followed  by  a  cry  of  pain  and  then  lamentations,  and  we  heard 
him  working  his  way  slowly  back.  When  Uncle  Jim  and  Sep 
Abbey  went  out  and  brought  the  poor  fellow  in,  he  was  in  a 
most  lamentable  condition.  When  the  sentry  fired  on  him, 
Tom's  hand  was  feeling  the  way  against  the  face  of  No.  55, 
and  the  bullet,  thanks  to  the  darkness  and  bad  aim,  struck  his 
arm.  shattering  the  elbow.    The  surgeons  saved  his  forearm 


28 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


and  hand,  but  cut  out  the  whole  elbow  joint.  That  was  No.  5, 
'"attempt  to  murder." 

One  night  we  heard  a  shot  on  the  south  side.  Next  morning 
I  went  over  to  No.  28  and  saw  a  man  who  had  been  shot  in 
the  arm  while  sleeping  on  his  bunk,  the  top  one  on  the  north 
side  against  the  kitchen  partition.  He  was  lying  on'  his  back 
with  his  right  arm  across  his  breast.  The  bullet  was  fired 
diagonally,  passing  through  the  end  of  the  barrack  and. 
kitchen  partition,  entering  his  arm  near  or  at  the  elbow,  pass- 
ing out  between  the  bones  of  his  wrist,  and  fortunately  not 
breaking  a  bone.  Four  inches  lower  would  have  pierced  his 
breast.    No.  6,  "attempt  to  murder." 

During  the  summer  of  1864  a  large  ditch  for  sanitary  pur- 
poses was  dug  through  the  middle  of  the  central  street,  and  a 
large  number  of  men  were  employed  in  it.  The  weather  was 
fearfully  hot  and  dry.  A  single  pump  furnished  the  only 
drinking  water  for  the  prison  at  that  time,  having  over  eight- 
thousand  inmates.  Only  one  bucket  was  allowed  to  each  man 
coming  to  the  pump,  where  two  men  were  detailed  to  pump 
from  roll  call  in  the  morning  until  twelve  o'clock  and  two 
others  from  twelve  till  six  or  later.  During  the  hottest  parts 
of  the  day  there  would  be  as  many  as  a  hundred  buckets  in 
line  on  each  side  of  the  pump,  each  man  waiting  his  turn  to 
fill  his  bucket,  and  often  relieving  the  almost  exhausted 
pumpers  by  pumping  their  own  buckets  full.  Naturally  with 
so  many  buckets  considerable  time  must  elapse  before  the 
turn  of  the  man  at  the  end  of  the  line  would  come.  It  was 
virtually  an  endless  chain  of  empty  buckets.  The  workers 
in  the  ditch  had  their  special  water  carrier ;  but  with 
the  long  string  of  buckets  ahead  of  him  the  carrier  would  be 
unusually  delayed,  and  the  men  in  the  bottom  of  an  eight- 
foot  ditch,  with  the  heat  of  the  sun  overhead  and  their 
exertions  below  with  pick,  shovel,  and  barrow,  felt  that  it  was 
a  long  time  between  drinks.  One  day  especially  they  had  be- 
come unusually  thirsty,  caused  by  an  unusual  delay  in  getting 
water  to  them  by  their  carrier ;  and  as  soon  as  he  appeared 
at  the  head  of  the  ditch  and  called  out  "Water!"  they  all, 
twenty  or  more,  rushed  up  the  bank  at  the  head  of  the  ditch 
on  the  avenue  and  crowded  around  the  carrier  with  his  bucket- 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON.  29 

ful  of  clear,  cool  water  brought  up  from  a  thousand  feet 
below  the  surface. 

Right  here  an  explanation  is  in  order.  Sometime  previous 
a  report  became  current  that  an  attempt  was  to  be  made  by 
the  prisoners  to  make  a  break  for  liberty.  Any  such  attempt 
must  have  resulted  in  a  useless  expenditure  of  blood  and  have 
proved  abortive.  But  that  is  quite  another  story  and  has 
no  place  here.  In  consequence  of  those  rumors,  the  guards 
had  been  enjoined  to  renewed  vigilance  and  doubled  on  the 
parapets.  Orders  were  issued  in  the  prison  prohibiting  the 
assembling  of  prisoners  on  the  avenue  and  streets  in  "groups" 
of  more  than  "two."  Sentries  were  instructed  to  disperse  all 
"groups"  thus  assembled  wherever  or  whenever  it  might  oc- 
cur by  order  to  "disperse,"  and  if  not  obeyed  to  fire  on  them 
without  further  warning.  Thus  matters  stood  on  the  day  in 
question,  and  it  was  not  the  first  time  that  day  nor  for  days 
previous  that  the  workmen  to  the  number  of  two  and  more 
at  a  time  came  up  out  of  the  ditch  to  get  a  drink.  They  were 
at  all  times  in  full  view  of  the  sentries,  and  there  was  not  a 
single  apparent"  excuse  for  mistaking  them. 

The  sentry  at  55  saw  them  rush  in  a  body  out  of  the  ditch 
and  surround  the  carrier;  but,  knowing  full  well  their  object, 
did  not  feel  that  any  order  obliged  him  to  call  on  them  to 
disperse.  It  was  the  same  with  the  sentry  at  the  opposite  end 
of  the  street,  at  42  and  56;  but  he  was  built  of  different  "dust." 
When  the  workmen  swarmed  around  the  carrier,  he  promptly 
called  out:  "Disperse  that  crowd!"  No  attention  was  paid 
to  the  order  by  the  thirtsy  men.  I  was  standing  quite  near 
No.  43  on  the  avenue  and  saw  that  the  sentry  intended  to 
shoot,  and  called  to  the  workmen  :  "Scatter,  boys !  that  fellow 
is  going  to  shoot."  Whether  they  heard  or  not,  I  cannot  tell ; 
bur  others-  who  were  passing  sought  cover.  Again  the  sentry 
called  on  them  to  disperse.  One  of  the  men  called  to  the 
sentry :  "We  are  workmen."  There  was  no  need  to  tell  him 
that;  he  knew  it  as  well  as  they,  but  the  knowledge  did  not 
stay  his  hand.  He  raised  his  gun  and  pulled  the  trigger. 
Three  went  down.  One,  the  first,  shot  through  the  liver,  died 
in  two  hours ;  the  second,  in  front  of  him.  was  bored  through 
the  intestines  from  behind,  the  ball  making  its  exit  near  the 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


navel ;  and  the  third  was  "caught  near  the  waistband  from  the 
rear,  the  bullet  perforating  the  body,  cutting  through  the  inner 
wall  of  his  right  pocket  and  dropping  into  that  receptacle. 
Those  two  were  taken  to  the  hospital.  One  died  a  few  days 
later  and  the  third  was  still  living,  but  of  his  ultimate  fate 
I  am  ignorant.  In  order  to  follow  events  in  the  order  of 
their  occurrence,  turn  to  page  32,  since  that  event  occurred 
during  the  summer  of  1864,  before  the  "Calf  Pen"  was  laid  off. 

During  the  winter  following  at  one  time  we  ran  short  of 
coal.  Any  one  acquainted  with  the  winter  temperature  in 
that  latitude  (41-40)  will  not  need  to  ask  what  that  meant  to 
men  illy  clad,  insecurely  housed,  and  with  vitality  reduced  by 
meager  fare,  and  in  ill  health  as  many  were.  We  were  re- 
duced to  all  sorts  of  makeshifts  to  eke  out  our  scanty  supply 
of  fuel — picking  up  the  limbs  of  trees  to  burn  (of  which  a  few 
remained  on  the  ground  from  trimming),  and  huddling  around 
the  cooking  boiler  in  the  kitchen,  for  which  the  coal  was  re- 
served, while  the  stoves  in  the  living  rooms  were  fed  simply 
enough  to  keep  them  "alive"  without  in  any  degree  warming 
the  room.  Fortunately  the  season  was  not  yet  advanced  to 
midwinter  frostiness,  but  there  were  several  inches  of  snow- 
on  the  ground. 

In  the  summer  of  1864  the  "authorities"  had  opened  a  re- 
cruiting office,  holding  out  the  bribe  of  "full  rations"  to  com- 
plaining stomachs,  ostensibly  on  the  grounds  that  there  were 
many  men  among  us  who  realized  that  they  were  engaged  in 
a  wrong  cause  and  would  gladly  accept  service  with  the  loyal 
States  under  a  guarantee  that  they  should  not  be  anywhere 
engaged  against  their  former  comrades,  but  be  sent  to  the 
frontier  to  war  against  the  Indians,  and  thus  prove  their  loy- 
alty (?)  to  the  old  flag. 

But  this  phase  will  be  treated  elsewhere.  It  is  not  in- 
tended in  this  paper  to  enter  into  an  argument  upon  the  cul- 
pability of  either  the  briber  or  the  bribed. 

A  line  fence  had  been  set  up  between  Barracks  44  and  46, 
58  and  60,  and  72  and  74  from  the  lower  fence  to  the  ditch 
in  Center  Street,  thence  along  the  ditch  in  front  of  Barracks 
46,  48,  50,  52f.  54,  and  56,  cutting  off  eighteen  barracks  for  the 
receiving  quarters  of  the  new  recruits.    This  was  immediately 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


3l 


dubbed  the  "Calf  Pen"  and  the  main  remaining  part  of  the 
prison  the  "Bull  Pen."  As  soon  as  recruits  were  acquired  they 
were  transferred  to  the  "Calf  Pen"  and  fed  on  full  rations, 
"to  fatten  up  for  the  slaughter."  Some  had  gone  simply 
because,  as  they  put  it,  "I'm  hungry  all  the  time,  and  I  can't 
stand  this  any  longer ;  but  I'll  desert  at  the  first  chance."  But 
I  saw  one  poor  devil  of  a  dried-up  specimen  whose  stomach 
would  not  be  bribed  by  the  promise  of  full  rations.  He  came 
by  our  door  one  day,  gaunt  arid  hollow-eyed.  On  the  ash  pile 
in  front  of  our  door,  in  the  dirty  snow,  lay  the  finely  chopped 
pieces  of  marrow  joint  some  one  had  thrown  out ;  and  stoop- 
ing down,  he  picked  up  a  handful  of  the  pithy  pieces  and 
munched  them  as  he  went  on  his  way  slowly.  The  loaves  of 
good  white  bread  and  the  pounds  of  meat  given  out  on  the 
other  side  of  the  fence  beyond  the  avenue  could  not  tempt 
him  to  bring  a  blush  to  the  cheeks  of  those  who  were  awak- 
ing his  coming  in  far-away  Georgia.  And  God  knows  that 
if  there  was  but  one  hungry  man  inside  that  prison  he  was 
that  one.    But  he  was  not  the  only  one. 

Some  of  the  men  who  went  into  the  "Calf  Pen"  gave  evi- 
dence of  a  desire  to  help  some  comrade  who  would  remain 
true  to  his  cause,  and  communications  were  soon  established 
and  chunks  of  meat  and  bread  would  find  their  way  over  the 
fence  without  wings,  though  flying.  Between  44  and  58  a 
bit  of  punk  sap  on  the  edge  of  a  board  permitted  an  enlarge- 
ment of  the  crack  between  the  boards,  so  that  one  could  see 
with  one  eye  the  person  on  the  other  side  with  whom  he  was 
conversing.  But  this  state  of  affairs  and  friendly  intercourse, 
with  the  now  and  then  chunks  of  bread  and  beef,  could  not 
continue.  Headquarters  soon  dropped  on  to  it,  and  a  guard 
was  put  on  the  beat  between  the  fence  and  the  ditch  and  the 
rear  sides  of  44,  58,  and  72,  and  a  straight  line  from  corner 
to  corner  across  the  street  was  constituted  the  "dead  line," 
beyond  which  we  were  forbidden  to  pass. 

Of  the  sentries  who  patrolled  this  beat  (a  space  of  less  than 
nine  feet  from  the  barrack  to  the  fence),  I  can  remember 
but  one  distinctly.  I  do  remember  that  some  were  good  fel- 
lows, considerate,  confining  themselves  to  a  strict  discharge  of 
their  duty  without  any  display  of  undue  harshness.    But  the 


3  2 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


one  I  do  remember  left  the  impress  of  his  brutal  features 
stamped  ineffaceably  on  my  memory-—  a  squat-built  negro  as 
black  as  any  ever  painted  by  nature's  brush,  low  forehead, 
deep-set  eyes,  and  the  elongated  jaw  of  the  gorilla,  a  face 
denoting  at  once  the  low  grade  of  mentality  characteristic  of 
the  lowest  type  of  the  negro — a  mere  brute. 

On  a  day  during  our  coal  famine,  above  mentioned,  a  man 
came  out  of  Barrack  No.  30.  f  was  on  the  avenue  between 
43  and  44.  nearer  43,  and  saw  this  man  walk  through  the  snow 
to  a  tree  standing  near  the  edge  of  the  ditch,  from  which  two 
limbs  the  thickness  of  a  man's  wrist  had  been  sawed  off  and 
were  lying  near  is  roots.  Reaching  the  tree,  he  stooped  and, 
taking  the  sawed-off  ends  one  in  each  hand,  started  toward 
the  kitchen  door  of  No.  30;  and  when  about  five  paces  of  the 
steps,  this  same  negro,  arriving  at  the  end  of  his  beat  at 
the  ditch,  without  warrant,  authority,  or  cause,  and  in  the 
most  brutal  manner  possible,  ordered  the  man  to  drop  those 
limbs.  I  can  hear  him  yet:  "You  d — d  Rebel,  drop  dem 
lim's."  Clearly  within  his  known  rights,  the  man  paid  not 
the  least  attention,  and  the  nigger  repeated  :  "Drop  dem  lim's, 
I  say !"  The  man  kept  on,  not  heeding  the  order.  When 
within  a  couple  of  paces  of  the  steps,  the  nigger  raised  his 
rifle,  took  deliberate  aim,  and  pulled  the  trigger.  Shot  through 
the  spine,  the  poor  fellow  fell  forward  on  his  face  in  the  snow 
motionless.  And  in  another  home  in  the  Southland  some  one 
jvas  waiting,  waiting  for  the  husband  that  never  came,  chil- 
dren waiting  for  the  loving  father  who  would  never  again 
give  them  the  good  night  kiss.    (Mark  to.) 

As  before  stated,  during  the  summer  of  1864  we  received 
a  large  addition  to  our  numbers  from  the  Trans-Mississippi 
Department  as  well  as  from  the  Army  of  the  Tennessee. 
Price's  men  had  been  assigned  to  quarters  almost  entirely 
below  the  ditch,  from  44  to  74.  These  and  the  accessions  from 
the  Arm)-  of  the  Tennessee  swelled  our  numbers  to  over 
8,000.  The  highest  average  was  S.607  (for  the  month  of 
June),  and  the  lowest  for  five  months  8. 181  (October).  And 
as  before  stated,  the  inmates  had  the  unrestricted  privilege  of 
use  of  the  "sinks"  night  or  day.  which  was  an  absolute  neces- 
sity in  view  of  the  numerous  cases  of  "summer  complaint" 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


33 


resulting  from  the  use  of  the  bad  river  water  and  the  nature 
of  our  diet.  At  the  time  of  the  following  occurrence  I  had 
myself  been  sick  for  some  time,  and  one  starlit  night  when 
the  conditions  of  my  mind  and  body  would  allow  me  no  rest 
I  went  strolling.  I  knew  I  was  taking  a  big  risk,  but  in  my 
then  frame  of  mind  I  did  not  much  care  what  happened.  My 
supper  had  been  of  the  very  lightest,  so  that  at  the  hour  of  mid- 
night, when  I  found  myself  roaming  the  streets  without  any 
definite  purpose,  my  mind  and  stomach  were  both  in  a  chaotic 
state  of  unrest.  In  my  wanderings  I  had  crossed  the  street 
from  the  neighborhood  of  59  and  61  toward  47,  then  turned 
my  steps  toward  the  avenue.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the 
avenue  I  saw  a  man  coming  toward  me  in  the  rear  of  Bar- 
racks 44  to  56  row.  He  was  in  his  underclothes  only,  and 
in  the  starlight  I  could  see  him  plainly.  Behind  him  the  lamp 
on  the  wall  threw  its  light  on  his  white  garments,  making 
him  a  shining  mark.  When  near  the  avenue  in  the  rear  of 
43,  I  stopped  and  stood  looking  at  him  as  he  came  toward  me. 
He  was  between  Barracks  50  and  46,  and  evidently  near  his 
journey's  end,  and  so  it  proved.  A  flash  from  the  parapet 
behind  him,  a  loud  report  in  the  still  night,  a  Whistling  Millie, 
a  dull  thud,  and  he  dropped  forward  and*  lay  still  and  quiet 
with  a  murderer's  bullet  in  his  back.  (Mark  11.)  The  sentry 
must  have  seen  this  man  go  to  the  sink  and  leave  it.  He  did 
not  halt  him  on  the  way  the(re ;  but  allowed  him  to  leave  it, 
and'  then  deliberately  shot  him  through  the  back.  Another 
home  in  the  Southland  where  are  heard  the  sobs  of  the  widow 
and  the  wail  of  the  orphan. 

The  winter  of  1864-65  passed  and  spring  came  with  her 
smiles,  but  it  brought  small  comfort  to  us  except  in  the 
thought  that  our  term  of  imprisonment  would  soon  end.  We 
would  have  papers  passed  to  us  now  and  then  which  would 
tell  of  some  great  Union  success.  Richmond  had  at  last  fall- 
en, Lee  and  Johnston  had  surrendered,  Lincoln  had  been  as- 
sassinated, and  the  unfortunate  Wirz  was  in  a  dungeon.  All 
these  came  in  rapid  succession.  Then  indeed  were  the  dark- 
days  come.  Worse  than  all  else,  the  knowledge  that  we 
were  crushed  to  the  earth  at  last,  all  power  of  resistance  gone, 
and  uncertain  of  our  own  ultimate  fate  was  our  bitterest  por- 


34 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


tion.  Above  all  did  we  dread  the  effect  of  Lincoln's  assassi- 
nation. A  regiment  of  "one  hundred  day"  men  had  been  sent 
to  guard  us.  It  was  the  ig2d  Illinois,  if  I  remember  right, 
and  they  were  worse  than  the  niggers.  Worse,  because  they 
were  white  men  and  boys,  officered  by  veterans  whose  terms 
had  expired.  Of  the  officers  I  can  say  nothing,  never  having 
come  in  contact  with  any  that  I  can  remember.  But  of  the 
men  who  mounted  guard  over  us,  they  had  among  them  a 
murderous  lot.  Their  firing  into  the  barracks  during  the 
night  became  a  matter  of  such  common  occurrence  that  men 
in  the  outer  rows  next  to  the  dead  line  feared  to  sleep  on 
the  upper  and  middle  bunks,  and  slept  on  the  floor  in  many 
instances  for  safety.  I  cannot  recall  having  heard  of  any 
others  having  been  killed  or  wounded  by  shooting  into  the 
barracks  during  the  nights.  If  none  were  wounded,  it  is  a 
wonder.  I  give  only  those  cases  I  myself  saw.  Others  doubt- 
less witnessed  as  many  other  murders  as  I  did.  Mine  is  the 
experience  of  only  one  prisoner  in  that  dreadful  place. 

One  warm  day  in  spring  toward  evening  a  crowd  had  gath- 
ered at  the  lower  end  of  44  as  usual  to  hold  confab  with  the 
inmates  of  the  "Calf  Pen"  and  in  many  instances  exchange 
rough  "compliments."  I  happened  to  be  among  the  audience 
taking  note  of  the  "badinage;"  and  as  it  happened  that  day, 
the  same  scowling-visaged  nigger  who  had  killed  the  man  at 
No.  30  was  on  guard.  The  boys  would  crowd  the  line,  some 
even  going  beyond  it  when  the  sentry's  back  was  turned,  but 
scooting  back  as  soon  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  turning. 
Right  here  I  wish  to  repeat  what  I  then  told  those  fellows : 
that  if  he  had  turned  suddenly  nd  fired  into  them  he  would 
have  been  perfectly  justified.  They  were  treading  forbidden 
ground,  and  knew  that  they  were  making  themselves  liable. 
As  he  had  more  than  once  ordered  them  back  from  the  line, 
naturally  he  became  impatient.  So  would  I  or  any  other  in 
the  same  circumstances. 

About  twelve  feet  from  the  line  stood  a  tree  leaning  slightly 
toward  the  avenue  and  almost  opposite  the  steps  of  44.  Against 
this  tree  was  leaning  a  young  man  of  Price's  army  with  his 
arms  crossed  on  his  breast,  a  silent  onlooker,  taking  no  part 
whatever  in  what  was  going  on ;  nor  had  he  moved  from  the 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


35 


time  he  had  planted  himself  against  the  tree,  altogether  in 
the  rear  of  the  crowd.  Hence  any  order  to  "move  back"  did 
not  affect  him  in  the  least.  Nor  was  he  in  any  way  subject 
to  the  order,  no  more  than  if  he  had  been  sitting  quietly  on 
the  steps  of  the  barrack. 

I  noticed  that  the  sentry  was  shortening  his  walk  and  told 
the  boys  to  keep  away  from  the  line.  I  was  intent  on  watch- 
ing him  now  to  the  exclusion  of  all  else ;  and  when  he  came 
back  toward  the  ditch  a  last  time  I  moved  back  into  the  ave- 
nue at  the  end  of  44  as  he  passed  that  end  and  said  to 
the  crowd :  "For  God's  sake,  boys,  move  back  from  the  line. 
You  know  that  he  shot  one  man  without  any  cause  at  all,  and 
I  tell  you  he  is  going  to  shoot  if  you  don't  keep  away."  And 
with  that  I  moved  still  farther  back.  The  nigger  moved  along 
slowly;  and,  as  I  was  told,  wheeled  suddenly  before  arriving 
at  the  end  of  his  beat,  threw  his  gun  up,  and  called  (that 
T  heard),  "Git  back  dar,  d — n  you!"  and  started  back.  The 
crowd  scattered,  some  passing  me  on  the  run.  Arriving  at 
the  corner  and  seeing  only  the  crowd  on  the  avenue  scattered, 
he  paid  no  attention  to  any  of  them;  but  directed  his  whole 
attention  to  the  young  Missourian,  who  had  not  moved  in  all 
the  while  and  was  still  leaning  against  the  tree,  with  his  arms 
crossed  on  his  breast  and  with  the  faintest  suspicion  of  a 
smile  on  his  face,  as  of  one  slightly  amused  by  the  antics  of  a 
lot  of  children  at  play.  The  very  calmness  of  his  attitude  and 
appearance  was  too  much  for  the  nigger.  I  saw  him  raise  his 
gun  and  pull  the  trigger  and  saw  the  bark  of  the  tree  rise 
with  the  concussion  of  the  shock  of  the  impact  of  the  mur- 
derer's bullet.  The  poor  fellow  fell  in  a  heap  at  the  foot  of 
the  tree — dead,  bored  through  the  throat.  (Mark  12.)  An- 
other home  in  which  some  one  would  vainly  await  the  coming 
of  a  son,  a  brother,  and  mayhap  a  sweetheart. 

I  submit  it  to  the  judgment  of  the  most  partial  critics  that 
had  the  sentry  fired  at  any  other  of  the  men  who  had  been 
"crowding"  the  dead  line  he  would  at  least  have  had  some 
show  of  justification;  but  he  could  not  by  any  possible  means 
have  failed  to  see  this  man  and  that  he  had  never  moved  from 
the  time  he  had  taken  his  s'tand  against  the  tree,  had  never 
approached  the  dead  line,  nor  taken  any  part  beyond  being  a 


36  ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 

mere  spectator.  It  was  nothing  more,  nothing  less  than  a 
cold-blooded  murder,  as  were  those  which  preceded  it. 

But  it  was  the  "last  straw."  An  indignation  meeting  was 
held,  and  the  presence  of  the  commanding  officer  on  the 
ground  shortly  after  the  occurrence  was  fraught  with  results. 
I  cannot  state  positively  whether  he  was  sent  for  or  whether 
he  came  in  to  inform  himself  of  the  affair  of  his  own  volition. 
I  only  know  that  I  saw  Lieutenant  Colonel  Carraher,  who  was 
in  command  that  day,  at  44  on  the  avenue  surrounded  by  a 
score  or  more  of  excited  but  none  the  less  quietly  deter- 
mined men.  T  hastily  drew  near  and  heard  some  words  which 
showed  the  temper  of  the  men  who  were  addressing  the 
Colonel.  He  listened  with  a  grave  face.  Said  the  spokesman: 
"Colonel,  we  have  come  to  the  limit  of  endurance.  We  are 
being  shot  like  dogs  at  all  hours  of  day  and  night,  when  we 
walk  on  the  streets  and  when  we  are  asleep  in  our  bunks. 
And  now  here  is  another  man  murdered  in  broad  daylight 
without  the  least  show  of  an  excuse:  This  nigger  has  killed, 
two  men  without  a  shadow  of  reason,  and  now  listen :  this 
nigger  must  go  out  of  this  prison,  and  stay  oat.  If  ever. He 
comes  back  into  this  prison,  we'll  hang  him,  understand  that. 
And  you  have  not  got  men  enough  outside  to  prevent  it.  If 
it  comes  to'  the  point  of  being  murdered  like  dogs,  then  you'll 
have  to  kill  us  all." 

Colonel  Carraher  looked  around  and  said :  "Well,  men,  you 
are  right.  I'll  see  that  this  man  is  taken  out,  and  I  promise 
you  that  he  will  not  come  in  here  again." 

More  followed  on  the  same  subject  which  I  do  not  recall. 
At  all  events,  the  nigger  was  immediately  relieved,  and  I 
never  saw  him  again;  also  I  noticed  and  recall  that  there  was 
much  less  shooting  after  that.  In  truth,  I  cannot  recall  an- 
other case  of  wanton  shooting  afterwards.  But  was  it  not 
about  time  that  it  ceased?  Nine  men  killed  outright  and  three 
wounded,  one'  of  whom,  I  was  informed,  died  of  his  wound  in 
the  hospital.  Can  Andersonville,  with  its  52,000  and  odd 
hundred  inmates,  show  a  like  proportionate  number-  of  men 
foully  murdered  ?  Can  any  other  Southern  prison  show  a 
like  list  of  wanton  murders?  If  so,  no  records  have  ever  re- 
vealed  the   fact.     No   article  ever  published   in   the  most 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


37 


rabid,  radical  journal  of  the  North  during  the  war  or  after 
showed  such  figures.'  Nor  does  any  record  by  any 
prisoner  held  in  the  South  record  any  such  murdering  of 
prisoners  as  has  been  shown  in  these  pages.  Not  even  at  the 
trial  of  Captain  Wirz  could  such  accusations  be  brought 
against  him,  and  he  had  52.345  prisoners  to  guard;  while 
we  were  at  the  most  12,883,  which  is  568  more  than  the  fig- 
ures 1  was  furnished  with  from  the  prison  books  June  15. 
1865,  while  yet  there. 

Supposing  the  charge  made  against  Captain  Wirz  was  true, 
in  that  he  had  killed  a  prisoner  himself,  was  he  in  any  way 
whatever  more  guilty  of  murder  than  was  Col.  A.  J.  Johnston 
for  allowing  his  men  to  shoot  prisoners  as  were  those  in  the 
cases  T  have  cited?  It  will  be  difficult  to  show  that  he  was 
less  of  a  murderer.  His  published  answer  to  his  critics  and 
accusers  dated  November  23,  1864,  in  view  of .  succeeding 
events  wherein  I  have  shown  three  men  foully  slain  and  one 
wounded  as  well  as  the  killings  which  had  preceded  these 
and  the  countless  shootings  into  the  barracks  in  the  night, 
when  for  fear  of  being  shot  while  asleep  in  their  bunks  men 
slept  on  the  floor,  stands  a  perpetual  accusation  against  him. 
If  he  could  not  have  his  way.  a  most  inhuman  way,  by  his  own 
words,  he  permitted  his  men  to  murder  prisoners  under  his 
charge. 

It  will  not  do  to  endeavor  to  exonerate  Colonel  Johnson 
on  the  ground  that  he  was  ignorant  of  the  actions  of  the 
troops  under  his  command.  That  would  put  upon  him  the 
brand  of  utter  incompetency  and  his  utter  unfitness  for  the 
command  of  even  a  very  limited  number  of  men  in  any 
capacity  whatever.  And  we  well  know  that  from  a  military 
point  of  view  he  was  as  capable  as  the  majority  of  officers 
of  like  rank.  To  what,  then,  are  we  to  ascribe  his  utter  in- 
difference to  the  acts  of  his  men  as  herein  stated?  There  is 
but  one  answer;  and  the  key  to  that  answer,  revealing  the 
whole  character  of  the  man,  is  to  be  found  in  his  letter  of 
November  23,  1864,  to  which  reference  has  hereinfore  been 
made,  and  of  which  we  heard  at  the  time  and  which  subse- 
quent events  fully  confirmed. 

.    .    In  the  first  place  instead  of  placing  them  in  fine, 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


comfortable  barracks,  with  three  large  stoves  in  each  and  as 
much  coal  as  they  can  burn  both  day  and  night,  /  zuould  place 
them  in  a  pen  with  no  shelter  but  the  heavens,  as  our  poor 
men  were  at  Andersonville.  Instead  of  giving  them  the  same 
quality  and  nearly  the  same  quantity  of  provisions  that  the 
troops  on  duty  receive,  I  would  give  them  as  near  as  possible 
the  same  quantity  and  quality  of  provisions  that  the  fiendish 
Rebels  give  our  men ;  and  instead  of  a  constant  issue  of 
clothing  to  them,  I  would  let  them  wear  their  rags,  as  our 
poor  men  in  the  hands  of  the  Rebel  authorities  are  obliged 
to  do."    .    .  . 

Italics  in  the  phrase,  "nearly  the  same  quantity,"  are  mine. 

Colonel  Johnson  referred  to  the  period  ending  June  10,  1864, 
to  which  it  truthfully  applied;  but  his  language  was  intended 
to  convey  the  impression  that  we  were  served  with  "quantity" 
continuously  and  were  being  served  with  this  same  "quantity" 
at  the  time  he  wrote  that  letter.  In  so  doing  he  was  guilty 
of  uttering  a  deliberate  falsehood,  be  he  living  or  dead.  It 
stands  a  deliberate  falsehood,  and  none  knew  it  better  than 
he.  But  it  is  only  in  keeping  with  the  principles*  and  senti- 
ments set  forth  in  that  letter.  Had  he  had  his  way,  he  would 
have  starved  us  to  death,  not  even  allowing  us  fuel  with 
which  to  cook  the  meager  food  given  us,  and  his  humanity 
(  ?)  would  have  led  him  to  put  us  in  an  "open  pen"  in  a 
latitude  where  the  mercury  drops  to  forty  degrees  below  zero 
in  winter  and  reaches  one  hundred  degrees  and  over  in  mid- 
summer. Verily,  I  would  not  be  here  to-day  inscribing  these 
bitter,  cruel  truths  which  for  forty-four  years  I  have  kept 
locked  away  that  none  but  the  most  intimate  friends  might  see, 
and  no  one  has  ever  yet  seen  the  whole. 

It  is  unseemly  that,  standing  as  we  are,  with  one  foot 
on  the  edge  of  the  grave  which  is  soon  to  be  our  last  resting 
place,  circumstances  should  force  us  in  sheer  self-defense 
to  dig  down  through  the  putrid  mold  of  forty  years  and  bring 
forth  in  the  sunlight  the  grinning  skull  and  clanking,  loath- 
some bones  of  a  sad  and  lamentable  past.  It  has  been  a  pain- 
ful task,  one  which  I  had  hoped  I  would  never  be  called 
upon  to  undertake;  for  should  it  come  to  the  light,  there  are 
(hose  of  my  own  blood  and  kindly  friends  who  wore  the 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


39 


blue,  North  and  South,  East  and  West,  who  must  feel  the 
stings  conveyed  by  these  pages — noble  men  who  did  their  duty 
as  they  saw  it,  honorably  and  in  the  most  humane  and  Chris- 
tianlike spirit,  among  the  guards  who  surrounded  us  and 
among  those  who  conducted  us  to  our  prison ;  men  for  whom 
in  all  these  years  I  have  had  but  the  most  kindly  feelings  and 
whom  I  would  be  glad  to  meet  at  any  time  or  at  any  place. 
"Let  us  have  peace."  Aye !  but  a  "peace  at  any  price"  is  the 
peace  purchased  by  poltroons. 


Supplemental  to  the  foregoing  by  Comrade  Minnich  it  is 
deemed  well  by  those  who  have  the  printing  in  charge  to 
reproduce  the  story  of  Mrs.  Kate  E.  Perry-Mosher  from  the 
Confederate  Veteran  (pages  27-33)  for  January,  1906.  This 
is  additional  to  what  was  promised  in  the  procurement  of  funds 
from  friends  for  the  publication. 


MRS.   KATE  E.   PERRY-  M  OS  HER. 


HISTORY  OF  ROCK  ISLAND,  ILL.,  1863. 


[Paper  read  by  Mrs.  Kate  E.  Perry-Mosher,  Honorary 
President  of  the  Henrietta  Hunt  Morgan  Chapter,  U.  D.  C, 
>£e3^S%  Ky.  She  resides  at  gj^LJE*sl=r?xh  Street,  Coving- 
ton, Ky.]     fS'S^  ^ eu/^4^yW2^^ ,  C^m^'^ 

I  had  gone  to  Rock  Island  in  1863  on  a  pleasure  trip,  and 
spent  the  summer  with  relatives  there,  never  dreaming  that 
a  thing  so  momentous  was  to  transpire  as  that  the  United 
States  government  would  use  the  island  for  a  military  prison. 
The  United  States  gained  its  right  to  this  island  through  the 
Harrison  Treaty  with  the  chiefs  of  the  Sac  and  Fox  tribes 
of  Indians,  made  at  St.  Louis  in  November,  1804.  This  had 
been  their  garden  spot  and  the  resort  of  the  tribes  during  the 
summer  months,  because  they  found  there  an  abundance  of 
wild  fruit,  strawberries,  blackberries,  plums,  etc.,  and  they 
imagined  it  was  cared  for  by  a  good  spirit,  who  lived  in  a 
cave  just  under  where  Fort  Armstrong  was  afterwards  built. 
He  was  white,  with  large  wings  like  a  swan's,  only  ten  times 
larger.  I've  often  heard  this  legend  and  seen  the  cave  The 
Indians  were  loath  to  part  with  the  island,  since,  too,  the  river 
supplied  them  with  such  fine  fish,  the  island  itself  being  the 
largest  and  most  beautiful  throughout  the  length  of  the  great 
Mississippi  River,  which  is  quite  two  thousand  miles. 

Rock  Island  derives  its  name  from  the  fact  of  its  resting 
upon  a  bed  of  rock,  consisting  of  limestone  in  horizontal 
strata  well  adapted  for  building  purposes.  It  lies  in  the  Mis- 
sissippi River,  between  the  cities  of  Moline  and  Rock  Island, 
111.  It  is  about  three  miles  long,  its  greatest  breadth  being  one 
mile.  It  is  bounded  for  the  most  part  by  precipitous  cliffs, 
being  exceptional  in  the  respect  that  most  of  its  rock-ribbed 
boundary  is  above  flood  mark  by  from  fourteen  to  twenty  feet. 
At  this  point  the  river  and  the  island  run  east  and  west. 
The  eastern,  or  what  appears  to  be  the  upper,  part  of  the 


4- 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


island  lies  near  Moline ;  the  western,  or  foot  of  the  island,  is 
just  at  the  city  of  Rock  Island  on  the  Illinois  shore  and  op- 
posite Davenport  on  the  Iowa  side.  The  boundary  line  sep- 
arating Illinois  from  Iowa  midriver  places  the  island  in 
Illinois. 

The  island  seems  to  have  had  no  history  until  the  breaking 
out  of  the  war  with  Great  Britain,  in  1812.  The  first  incident 
of  that  war  which  concerned  it  was  the  attack  upon  Governor 
Clark's  expedition  to  Prairie  Du  Chien  by  the  Indians,  which 
they  nearly  destroyed.  Then  the  government  established  a 
fort  there  to  protect  the  settlers,  control  the  Sac  and  Fox 
tribes,  and  guard  the  travel  upon  the  river. 

In  1817  Fort  Armstrong  was  built,  and  two  companies  of 
infantry  stationed  there  regularly.  In  1831  a  most  stirring 
chapter  was  added  to  its  history,  as  the  valiant  garrison  suc- 
cessfully defended  the  post  'and  settlers  during  the  "Black 
Hawk  War."  Lieut.  Col.  Zachary  Taylor  (afterwards  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States),  Lieut.  Jefferson  Davis,  and  Abra- 
ham Lincoln  took  part  in  these  furious  encounters.  In  1837 
Lieut.  Robert  E.  Lee  surveyed  the  river  channel  here  in  the 
interest  of  the  Mississippi  River  improvement,  for  be  it 
known  that  here  is  the  foot  of  the  rapids,  which  extend  up 
and  beyond  some  fourteen  to  eighteen  miles.  . 

Pause  one  moment,  note  this  group  of  men :  Jefferson 
Davis,  Abraham  Lincoln,  Robert  «E.  Lee.  Their  lives  even 
then  seemed  to  run  in  near  parallels ;  later,  each  stepped 
grandly  forth,  doing  manfully  and  nobly  the  work  life  had  for 
their  hands,  leaving,  when  death  came,  names  emblazoned  in 
glory  upon  the  escutcheon  of  their  country,  and  a  love  in  the 
hearts  of  its  people  that  will  never  die. 

In  1856,  when  Jefferson  Davis  was  Secretary  of  War,  he 
warmly  advocated  the  location  of  a  mid-continent  arsenal 
upon  the  island,  his  earlier  experience  of  twenty-two  years 
before  convincing  him  of  its  unequaled  importance  for  ord- 
nance purposes.  Being  so  far  inland,  he  considered  it  safe 
from  attack  by  enemies  by  either  lake  or  river.  While  he 
held  the  war  portfolio,  he  used  his  influence  and  the  authority 
of  his  position  to  prevent  the  government  from  selling  the 
island  to  settlers  who  were  anxious  to  locate  there.  It  seemed 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


43 


the  very  irony  of  fate  that  in  the  near  future  this  very  spot 
which  he  had  so  clung  to  and  warmly  defended  for  the  gov- 
ernment should  have  "been  chosen  for  a  military  prison,  where 
brave  men  who  devoutly  believed  in  the  cause  they  and  he 
espoused  should  be  placed,  many  to  suffer  and  die. 

In  1863  the  island  was  covered  with  a  dense  timber  growth, 
much  of  which  was  an  undergrowth  of  what  is  known  as 
"black-jack,"  a  species  of.  oak;  but  most  of  the  trees  were  of 
the  forest  primeval.  It  was  in  the  summer  and  fall  of  that 
year,  1863,  that  the  United  States  government  decided  to 
build  barracks  here  for  a  military  prison.  For  this  purpose 
it  was  most  admirably  situated,  being  far  removed  from  the 
scenes  of  war,  comparatively  isolated,  and  considered  very 
secure.  Extensive  barracks  were  built,  and  it  became  one 
of  the  largest  military  prisons  of  the  North.  The  quarters 
for  the  prisoners  were  built  on  the  north  side — i.  e.,  facing 
the  Mississippi  River  upon  a  sheer  precipice  whose  foot 
reached  the  murmuring  water  as  it  flowed  beneath — and 
about  one  mile  from  the  lower  or  western  end  of  the  island. 
The  prison  covered  about  twelve  acres.  While  it  was  con- 
sidered the  safest  location,  it  exposed  the  buildings  to  the 
merciless  blasts  of  the  icy,  cutting  winds,  which  swept  up  and 
down  the  great,  broad  river. 

A  company  of  friends  and  I  went  all  through  the  inclosure 
just  as  the  barracks  were  finished.  They  were  built  of  green 
lumber,  which  would  shrink  in  the  process  of  seasoning, 
leaving  great  gaps  or  cracks  for  the  play  of  the  freezing, 
piercing,  searching  wind  and  snow.  To  give  an  idea  of  the 
severity  of  the  winters,  I  will  state  that  I  have  been  driven 
with  a  large  party,  in  a  band  wagon  sleigh  drawn  by  four 
horses,  across  the  Mississippi  River  at  Rock  Island,  it  being 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  wide,  the  ice  covering  it  many 
inches  thick.  To  emphasize  still  more :  Sometime  in  the 
sixties  the  pier  near  the  Iowa  shore  of  the  Chicago,  Rock 
Island,  and  Pacific  Railway  bridge  was  pushed  bodily  by  the 
heavy  ice  down  the  stream  some  twenty-five  feet.  Again, 
during  a  severe  windstorm  the  draw  of  the  bridge  (it  is 
immense)  was  lifted  from  its  masonry  and  blown  over  on 
its  side  upstream,  so  it  hung  suspended  by  the  dra.w  pier, 


44 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


with  both  ends  free  in  midair.  Think  of  this,  and  then  for- 
mulate some  idea  of  how  inhospitable  this  climate  would 
prove  to  men  thinly  clad  and  just  from  the  Southland  of 
sunshine  and  roses. 

As  I  have  said,  it  was  intended  to  be  a  large  prison,  which 
indeed  it  proved  to  be,  as  over  twelve  thousand  men  were 
confined  there.  This  was  not  a  fluctuating  population,  but  a 
settled  one,  that  remained.  They  were  prisoners!  What  a 
condition !  The  prison  itself  took  the  form  of  a  rectangle. 
There  were  fourteen  east  and  west  rows  of  one-story  frame 
buildings,  six  in  a  row.  Each  barrack  was  one  hundred  feet 
long  by  twenty  wide,  with  v/indows  and  three-tier  bunks  in 
the  sides'  and  a  door  in  each  end.  Each  barrack,  when  not 
crowded,  would  accommodate  one  hundred  and  twenty  men. 
Of  course  they  were  constructed  of  rough  boards,  without 
paint  outside  or  plaster  within.  There  were  fourteen  rows 
of  buildings,  seven  rows  on  the  north  and  seven  rows  on  the 
south.  An  avenue,  at  least  seventy-five  feet  wide,  ran  through, 
dividing  them.  Then  about  fifty  feet  from  the  ends  and  sides 
of  the  buildings  was  the  stockade.  This  was  built  of  heavy 
timbers  placed  upon  end  and  duly  secured.  On  the  outside  of 
the  stockade  ran  the  parapet  wide  enough  for  the  guards,  who 
were  constantly  on  duty,  to  pass  and  repass,  there  being  also 
sentinel  boxes  every  one  hundred  feet. 

On  the  inside  the  stockade  was  paralleled  by  the  dead  line. 
This  was  really  a  ditch,  which  was  equidistant,  or  about 
twenty-five  feet  each  way,  from  barracks  and  stockade,  over 
which  should  an  unfortunate  soul  try  to  pass  he  was  shot- 
killed  if  the  miserable  aim  of  the  ever-vigilant  guard  on  the 
parapet  above  proved  true  or  his  shot  did  not  run  wild. 
God  knows  his  will  was  good,  as  murder  was  in  his  heart. 
These  guards  were  volunteers  from  the  43d  Iowa  "Gray- 
beards,"  called  "Graybeards"  because  they  were  middle- 
aged  with  gray  hair  and  beards;  also  the  4th  Regiment  Vet- 
eran Reserve  Corps  and  the  108th  Colored  Volunteer  Infantry 
from  Kentucky.  They  had  never  been  under  fire,  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  baptism  of  blood,  yet  considered  it  a  sacred  duty 
to  serve  their  country  by  deliberately  killing  one  of  their 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


45 


defenseless  foes  upon  the  least  provocation  or  none  at  all. 
Many  poor  prisoners  were  thus  shot  to  death. 

I  was  never  on  the  parapet  at  Rock  Island  after  the  prison- 
ers came ;  but  was  on  that  at  Camp  Chase,  near  Columbus, 
Ohio,  whither  my  brother,  as  a  prisoner  of  war,  was  trans- 
ferred from  Alton,  111.,  that  being  a  condemned  prison — i.  e., 
spies  who  were  condemned  to  death  were  put  there.  It  was 
considered  good  enough  for  Forrest's  men  ;  but  my  father 
never  rested  until  he  effected  a  change  and  had  my  brother 
removed  to  Camp  Chase,  so  afraid  was  he  that  a  mistake  (?) 
might  be  made,  it  being  a  very  easy  matter  to  order  my 
brother  out  to  be  shot,  especially  since  he  had  incurred  their 
intense  displeasure  by  compelling  a  faithful  friend  (who  was 
held  as  a  spy)  to  take  his  place  on  the  exchange,  my  brother 
keeping  out  of  sight  until  the  safd  exchange  had  passed 
Fortress  Monroe. 

The  island  of  Rock  Island  is  separated  from  the  mainland 
by  an  arm  of  the  river  running  around  it  up  to  Moline.  This 
body  of  water  was  known  as  the  "Slough"  in  those  days.  In 
summer,  when  the  river  was  low,  the  Slough  would  be  at 
such  times  some  two  or  three  hundred  feet  wide  and  not  very 
deep.  What  impediment  was  that  to  a  prisonr  who  had  es 
caped  when  possible  liberty  lay  beyond?  Across  the  foot, 
or  west  end,  of  the  island  runs  the  Chicago,  Rock  Island,  and 
Pacific  railroad.  The  Chicago  trains  come  into  the  Rock  Is- 
land yards,  cross  the  Slough  on  a  bridge,  then  the  great  bridge 
to  Davenport,  and  thence  on  west. 

It  was  on  a  dark,  raw,  gloomy  day,  December  3,  1863,  when 
the  first  Confederate  prisoners  came.  I  promise  you,  it  was 
a  day  fraught  with  intense  excitement,  never  to  be  forgotten. 
The  whole  city  was  on  the  qui  vwe,  with  Davenport  to  help. 
Real,  live  Rebels  were  coming!  and.  ridiculous  as  it  may 
seem,  it  is  a  fact  that  many  were  frightened,  actually  afraid 
of  a  disarmed  foe.  Still,  they  had  curiosity  to  see  how  he 
looked,  blankly  disappointed,  no  doubt,  to  find  him  minus  the 
horns  and  cloven  hoofs.  Some,  let  us  hope,  had  hearts  filled 
with  a  Godlike  pity  and  a  compassion  divine  for  these  brave 
heroes  that  the  fortune  of  war  had  sent  into  their  midst. 
It  was  known  that  the  "prisoners'  train"  was  to  be  run  an 


46 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


the  island  to  a  certain  point,  switched  off,  and  they  disem- 
barked and  marched  to  the  prison,  a  mile  away.  Hundreds 
of  Rock  Island  and  Davenport  citizens  stood  waiting  at  the 
designated  place.  A  strong,  thick  cable  of  rope  was  run  to 
keep  the  people  back.  The  police  of  both  cities  were  out  in 
full  force,  with  deputies  sworn  in. 

The  shrill  whistle  of  the  incoming  train  at  last  sounded, 
and  the  excitement  began.  As  for  myself,  I  was  quivering 
with  contending  emotions — grief,  which  I  was  too  proud  to 
show,  and  a  deep  and  tender  pity  ior  these  my  people  from 
the  far-away  Southland,  who  had  battled  for  the  cause  they 
believed  to  be  true.  Here  they  stood,  hopeless,  forlorn,  and 
seemingly  forsaken!  My  heart  was  nearly  bursting;  the  blood 
was  racing  and  leaping  through  my  veins;  my  very  brain  was 
whirling.  My  soul  reached  out  in  agony  and  despair,  wild 
with  desperation  over  the  fate  of  war.  As  they  marched 
past,  I  was  beside  myself  with  suppressed  pity — fury,  if  you 
will — and  excitement !  Had  I  been  killed,  I  would  have 
spoken.  Waving  my  kerchief,  I  steadied  my  voice  and  said: 
"I  am  from  Kentucky,  and  a  friend."  "No  talking  to  the 
prisoners!'1  ordered  the  police.  O,  you  should  have  seen  the 
eager  faces  of  the  Confederates !  How  they  lighted  up  to 
know  that  even  one  confessed  friend  was  so  near,  and  she  a 
countrywoman !  It  seemed  to  thrill  them.  The  word  was 
passed  up  and  down  the  line  like  wildfire.  "There  she  is! 
there  she  is !"  and  every  hat  was  raised  as  they  passed.  All 
this  was  but  making  matters  worse  for  me,  already  nearly 
beside  myself.  I  was  simply  wild,  and  yet  tried  hard  to  be 
seemingly  composed.  "Any  of  the  9th  Tennessee,  Forrest's 
command,  here?  My  brother's  regiment?"  "Yes,  yes;  lots 
of  them,"  with  eager  looks  beyond  expression.  "No  talking 
to  the  prisoners!"  thundered  a  policeman. 

A' few  days  after  the  doorbell  rang.  The  maid  came  to  me 
and  said  a  soldier  wished  to  see  me.  Going  to  the  recep- 
tion room,  I  saw  a  United  States  sergeant.  He  saluted,  and 
handed  me  a  letter.  Imagine  my  surprise  to  find  that  it  was 
from  one  of  my  brother's  men !  I  at  once  saw  a  way  for  an 
"underground,"  and,  believe  me,  I  improved  it.  I  talked  to 
this  sergeant  until  he  promised  me  most  faithfully  that  he'd 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


47 


aid  me  all  he  could  in  carrying  both  notes  and  tobacco  to  the 
prisoners.  May  the  eternal  God  have  loved  and  blessed  him 
for  all  he  did!  He  proved  as  true  as  steel.  Although  ar- 
rested several  times  after  returning  to  the  island  from  the 
city,  each  time,  he  told  me,  he  had  torn  the  notes  into  snips. 
His  guard,  believing  him  innocent,  did  not  watch  him  closely, 
and  before  reaching  headquarters,  a  mile  away,  he  had  thrown 
the  pieces  to  the  winds.  The  tobacco  he  kept,  as  there  could 
be  no  proof  it  was  not  his  own.  Fortunately  I  always 
gave  verbal  instructions  about  that.  So  when  he  went  into 
the  prison  (he  had  charge  of  a  barrack),  he'd  take  the  to- 
bacco in  and  give  it  as  per  my  wish. 

The  day  I  saw  the  prisoners  (the  first  who  came)  I  then 
and  there  determined  to  do  all  I  could  for  them ;  but  before 
going  to  work  T  resolved  to  see  what  authority  I  could  have. 

So  I  wrote  at  once  to  Mr.  Stanton,  President  Lincoln's  Sec- 
retary of  War,  to  ascertain  what  privileges  I  would  be 
granted  in  sending  food  and  clothing.  I  took  particular  pains 
to  let  it  be  known  at  headquarters  that  I  had  done  this  and 
that  I  had  received  instructions.  All  of  my  reserved  forte 
came  to  my  aid.  I  was  young,  strong,  healthy  to  a  degree, 
and  one  of  the  most  devoted,  enthusiastic  Rebels  that  ever 
claimed  glorious  "Old  Kentucky"  as  her  birthplace  and  home. 

I  began  my  work  by  writing  to  all  my  friends  in  Kentucky 
and  everywhere  else,  asking  for  speedy  aid.  I  wanted  cloth- 
ing and  tobacco,  the  soldier's  solace,  but  clothing  especially. 
Then  I  begged  all  these  friends  to  ask  their  friends,  in  this 
way  establishing  a  sort  of  endless  chain.  Soon  box  after 
box  of  clothing  and  boxes  of  edibles  began  coming  in.  The 
latter,  however,  were  generally  sent  for  special  friends.  This 
contribution  of  clothing,  shoes,  tobacco,  etc.,  continued  to 
come  in  for  months.  I  turned  my  cousin's  aviary  into  a 
perfect  "country  store." 

The  prisoners  knew  what  I  was  doing,  and  were  constantly 
writing  through  headquarters  for  aid.  I  have  now  hundreds 
of  such  letters,  bearing  silent  testimony  to  this  fact,  which 
I've  kept  as  sacred1  through  all  these  years.  I  would  take 
each  letter,  make  a  list  of  the  writer's  wants,  get  the  re- 
quired articles  together,  putting  same  into  a  secure  package, 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


then  on  a  slip  of  paper  write  the  prisoner's  name  and  number 
of  barrack,  then  beneath  itemize  the  contents  of  said  pack- 
age, sign  my  own  name  as  the  sender  (this  was  required), 
and  secure  this  paper  upon  the  bundle.  Of  course  these  were 
all  searched  at  headquarters,  that  no  contraband  should  go 
in.  Upon  certain  days  I'd  send  large  consignments.  One 
day  it  happened  that  I  sent  a  very  large  lot.  By  this  time,  I 
must  say,  I  was  known,  not  only  as  a  sympathizer,  but  an 
out-and-out  Rebel,  which  fact  was,  of  course,  beyond  conceal- 
ment. When  my  expressman  drove  up  and  they  took  the 
packages  out,  there  were  so  many ;  and,  seeing  my  name  upon 
them  so  repeatedly,  the  officer  in  charge  lost  all  patience  and 
yelled  out :  "Miss  Kate  E.  Perry !  Miss  Kate  E.  Perry !  I 
wish  she'd  never  been  born  !" 

As  to  the  underground  routes,  besides  the  faithful  sergeant 
already  spoken  of,  one  of  the  United  States  surgeons  was 
kind  enough  to  carry  many  notes.  His  family  and  my  rela- 
tives were  old  and  close  friends,  so  he  was  soon  sounded  and 
used.  Then  the  humble  driver  of  a  milk  wagon  was  another 
whose  heart  was  kind.  Pie  did  splendid  service,  too.  I  also 
had  various  others,  but  must  not  forget  to  add  to  the  list 
a  very  important  aid — a  Roman  Catholic  priest.  He  often 
visited  the  prison,  as  many  children  of  his  Church  were  there. 
He  was  permitted  to  go  within  the  stockade,  and  had  an 
especial  barrack  given  him  for  confessional.  After  shriving 
members  of  his  own  Church,  he'd  send  for  one  of  the  men 
to  whom  my  notes  were  addressed.  He  told  me  the  man 
would  come  with  wild  and  anxious  countenance  and  bulging 
eyes,  he  being  a  Protestant,  wondering  what  a  Catholic  priest 
wanted  with  him.  He  soon  found  out,  took  all  notes  to  de- 
liver, having  sworn  to  keep  faithfully  his  own  counsel  after. 

Time  wore  on,  the  dreadful  winter  finally  passed,  the 
poor  prisoners  in  the  meanwhile  having  suffered  terribly.  The 
severe  climate,  the  insufficient  clothing,  food,  and  bedding, 
and  the  condition  of  their  barracks  all  told  most  seriously 
against  them.  Many  wrote  me  by  the  underground  that  upon 
unusually  cold  nights  they  divided  up  and  slept  by  relief, 
comrades  taking  turns  sitting  up  to  keep  the  fires  going  in 
the  stoves  the  best  they  could  (this  by  stealth  after  lights 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


49 


out)  to  keep  from  freezing.  Portions  of  their  bunks  were 
often  used  to  aid  in  this.  Nevertheless,  many  poor  souls  did 
freeze. 

The  blessed  spring,  though  late  and  shy  in  that  climate, 
came  at  last,  bringing  softer,  balmier  air,  and  thus  physical 
relief.  In  the  meanwhile  many  had  sickened  and  died,  the 
number  of  Confederate  graves  fast  growing.  Smallpox  added 
its  horrors  and  swept  many  away.  As  the  summer  advanced 
the  prisoners  became  restless.  Plans  of  escape  were  made — 
some  successful,  while  many  failed.  The  prisoners  were  re- 
quired to  do  all  kinds  of  menial  work — cleaning  officers' 
quarters,  scavenger,  breaking  rock,  cutting  undergrowth  for 
a  new  road,  digging  and  grading  the  same — the  guard,  of 
course,  standing  over  them.  But  they  were  glad  indeed  to 
get  "outside"  at  any  price,  for  obvious  reasons.  Many  never 
returned. 

A  lady  from  Missouri  (a  Mrs.  Lynch),  whose  husband  was 
a  prisoner  on  the  island,  had  written  us  that  she  was  anxious' 
to  visit  him.  She  came  at  last,  but  was  not  permitted  to  see 
her  husband.  She  was  grievously  disappointed  and  almost 
heartbroken.  Then  it  was  concluded  that  it  was  a  propitious 
time  for  my  underground  to  be  called  into  requisition. 
Through  it  we  arranged  all  the  details  of  a  very  daring 
scheme.  Mr.  Lynch  was  to  try  to  escape.  On  a  certain  day 
he  was  to  take  the  place  of  one  of  the  prisoners  sent  out  to 
work  the  road.  We  knew  he  could  get  some  clothing  in  the 
stockade,  and  by  a  trusted  hand  we  sent  a  pair  of  goggles. 
All  things  arranged  and  the  day  understood,  we  baked  an  old- 
fashioned  jelly  cake,  and  in  the  very  center,  wrapped  in  oil 
silk,  was  a  pass,  passes  being  required  on  the  bridge  over  the 
Slough  between  the  island  and  the  city.  Guards  were  posted 
to  examine  them. 

The  cake  and  a  few  other  edibles  were,  with  some  trifles, 
put  into  a  small  basket,  which  the  wife  took  over  the  after- 
noon before  the  date  set  for  the  culmination  of  our  plot,  and 
begged  to  see  her  husband.  Again  she  was  refused.  Then 
she  asked,  with  streaming  eyes  (for  by  this  time  she  was 
both  nervous  and  frightened,  knowing  what  the  morrow  prom- 
ised), that  the  little  basket,  with  its  innocent-looking  contents, 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISOti. 


might  be  sent  to  her  husband.  The  officer  of  the  day,  after 
having  it  fully  examined,  called  an  orderly  and  sent  it  in. 
She  returned  greatly  elated  and  excited.  We  became  some- 
what nervous.  The  scheme  had  carried  well  so  far.  The 
plot  had  begun,  we  knew  it  was  at  work,  and  that  his  fate 
and  ours  would  be  decided  within  the  next  twenty-four  hours. 
He  was  to  go  on  the  detail  for  outside  work  the  very  next 
morning.  It  was  then  he  was  to  get  away,  if  he  could,  we 
to  be  ready  to  give  him  instant  help  in  getting  off  and  away. 

The  night  passed,  fair  morning  beamed.  We  watched  and 
waited.  The  hours  dragged ;  the  long  suspense  seemed  al- 
most insupportable.  Our  nerves  were  strung  to  such  a  high 
tension  that  the  minutes  seemed  hours.  The  time  seemed 
full  of  evil  portent.  Fearing  something  had  miscarried,  we 
were  almost  at  our  wits'  end,  when  suddenly  the  doorbell 
rang  with  a  loud  and  shrill  peal.  We  cautiously  looked,  and 
behold,  our  prisoner  was  at  the  door !  His  wife  rushed  into 
his  outstretched  arms,  wrild  with  weeping,  and  nearly  swooned. 
In  the  rush  and  hurry  of  preparation  to  get  off,  he  quickly 
told  us  how  he  watched  his  chance,  friends  in  the  plot  help- 
ing. He  stepped  behind  an  embankment,  tore  off  his  working 
clothes  (he  had  on  a  suit  under  them),  put  on  the  blue  gog- 
gles, and  came  slowly  walking  around1  the  other  way,,  and 
stopped  to  look  at  the  prisoners'  work.  His  friends  dared  not 
look  at  him;  but  he  actually  addressed  them  some  passing 
remark.  Up  rushed  the  guard  and  ordered  him  to  "Move 
on !  No  talking  to  the  prisoners  !"  He  did  move  on,  but  not 
before  he  heard  one  of  his  friends  say,  sotto  voce:  "Free,  by 
God." 

All  this  was  a  tremendous  risk,  but  he  had  weighed  his 
chances.  It  was  "liberty  or  death.''  He  nerved  himself  to 
pass  through  the  ordeal.  He  got  to  the  Slough  bridge,  drew 
out  his  pass;  and  was  sent  ahead.  We  got  him  ready  and 
speedily  sent  him  off  to  a  certain  point  to  take  an  outgoing 
train.    He  left  on  the  double-quick,  and  got  safely  away. 

Mr.  L.  was  scarcely  out  of  sight  before  I  rushed  to  the 
coachman  and  ordered  him  to  bring  the  carriage  to  the  door 
as  quickly  as  he  could  put  the  horses  to  it.  I  then  ran  to 
my  cousin  and  asked  her  to  be  ready,  for  her  life,  as  soon  as 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


she  could,  telling  her  about  the  carriage  and  that  we  must 
call  at  once  upon  Mrs.  Johnson  (we  exchanged  visits),  whose 
husband,  Col.  A.  J.  Johnson,  commanded  the  post.  We  got 
off  on  time,  were  driven  very  fast,  and  serenely  made  our  call. 
We  also  went  and  made  a  call  upon  Mrs.  Layton,  whose  hus- 
band was  in  charge  of  the  correspondence  of  prisoners.  It 
seems  that  .we  thus  established  an  "alibi,"  for  in  the  hubbub 
caused  by  the  escape  we  heard  that  Colonel  Johnson  sai J 
during  the  commotion  when  discussing  the  affair:  "Miss  Perry 
is  certainly  innocent  of  this,  for  at  that  very  time  she  was 
calling  p.t  my  house."  If  the  thought  was  any  comfort  to  him, 
he  was  welcome  to  it. 

One  day  I  was  hastily  called  to  the  front  gate,  and  found 
there  a  young  surgeon  of  the  staff  whom  I  had  met  socially 
and  knew  very  well.  I  insisted  upon  his  dismounting  (he 
was  gorgeous  in  high  riding  boots  and  equipments  generally), 
but  he  declined,  saying  he  was  in  a  most  fearful  hurry.  He 
had  promised  to  deliver  a  letter  to  me.  This  he  said  he  would 
do  provided  I'd  give  him  my  sacred  word  that  I'd  burn  it 
the  moment  I  had  finished  reading  it.  He  told  me  that  the 
writer  had  not  long  since  been  ill,  was  sent  to  the  hospital, 
and  was  in  his  ward';  that  he  liked  him  much,  formed  quite 
a  friendship  for  him,  and  felt  sorry  for  him.  He  said  he 
(the  surgeon)  knew  the  contents  of  said  letter,  and  conse- 
quently knew  the  great  risk  he  was  taking.  "  I  gave  the  de- 
sired pledge,  he  handed  me  the  letter,  and  was  evidently  much 
frightened  at  his  own  act.  Putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  tore 
up  the  avenue  like  mad: 

The  letter  was  from  a  prisoner  who  intended  trying  to 
escape  and  wanted  me  to  know,  so  that  I  might  be  ready. 
That  letter  was  genuine.  I  knew  the  writing  well.  I  could 
not  say  so  much  of  one  that  came  soon  after.  A  few  days 
later,  when  I  happened  to  be  out  (and  I  always  did  think 
they  saw  me  go),  two  strange  soldiers  came,  bringing  a  letter 
addressed  to  "Faithful."  Be  it  known  that  that  was  my  under- 
ground nom  de  plume.  My  cousin  was  foolish  enough  to 
receive  the  letter  for  me.  That  was,  of  course,  an  admission. 
If  I  were  to  be  betrayed,  they  had1  gained  their  object. 

When  I  returned  from  down' town,  I  was  overwhelmed  to 


52 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


find  what  my  cousin  had  done.  I  knew  instantly  that  either 
some  underground  mail  had  been  captured  or  that  treachery 
was  abroad  from  some  quarter.  The  authorities  had  evidently 
found  something,  and  the  question  arose  among  them :  "Who 
is  'Faithful?'"  They  determined  to  discover.  Either  it  was 
some  member  of  Mrs.  Charles  Buford's  family  ,  (they  were 
Kentuckians  and  all  Rebels,  Mrs.  Buford  being  Gen.  Basil 
Duke's  own  aunt)  or  it  was  that  thorn  in  their  side,  Miss 
Kate  E.  Perry.  So  my  cousin's  having  received  the  note  for 
me  placed  it  at  once. 

This  letter,  though  bearing  the  same  information  as  the 
first,  was  written  in  a  strange  hand.  The  excuse  was  that 
Mr.  Burton,  who  wrote  the  one  the  frightened  surgeon  gave 
me,  was  ill,  and  one  of  the  party  who  were  to  escape  with, 
him  had  been  requested  to  write  this  for  him.  The  writer 
went  on  to  say  that  their  plans  were  all  laid  and  were  sure 
to  carry,  and  that  my  cousin,  members  of  Mrs.  Buford's 
family,  and  myself  must  not  fail  to  be  at  the  depot  on  a  cer- 
tain night;  that  Mr.  Burton,  from  Shelbyville,  Ky.  (I  had 
never  seen  him — he  was  a  prison  friend),  would  have  a  white 
string  around  his  hat  ;  that  I  would  thus  instantly  know  him, 
and  should  approach  him  without  fear,  with  the  money  for  the 
hoped-for  journey.  When  I  finished  reading  that  letter,  I 
laughed  and  wcjndered  if  the  writer  considered  me  an  abso- 
lute fool.  The  more  I  thought  it  over,  the  more  indignant 
and  troubled  I  became,  feeling  sure  it  was  a  trap.  Who  had 
betrayed  me?  I  was  certain  that  the  orderly  who  had  been 
faithful  so  long  had  not.  I  was  also  sure  of  the  Catholic 
priest  and  of  the  old  doctor,  who  was  a  family  friend.  Either 
I  had  been  deliberately  betrayed  by  the  young  surgeon  who 
gave  me  the  letter  at  the  gate  or  they  had  captured  impor- 
tant mail  in- some  inexperienced  hand.  Immediately  I  wrote 
to  friends  on  the  inside,  telling  them  of  the  disaster  and 
charging  them  never  to  address  "Faithful"  again,  but  instead 
"Pauline;"  that  she  would  be  just  as  true. 

The  day  came  for  the  "coup"  at  the  depot.  We  paid  no 
attention  to  it — not  foolish  enough  to  fall  into  that  trap.  We 
remained  safely  at  home.    We  afterwards  heard  through  a 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


53 


military  friend  that  it  was  a  deep-laid  plot  to  catch  all  the 
sympathizers  at  once,  red-handed. 

A  note  was  left  at  the  door  one  day  by  two  escaped  prison- 
ers from  Camp  Douglas,  near  Chicago.  I  knew  the  men- 
old  friends  and  neighbors.  One  was  J.  Carroll  Hamilton,  of 
Sparta,  Ky.,  brother  of  Mrs.  J.  P.  Garvey,  now  of  California. 
Some  six  or  eight  men  had  tunneled  out  from  Camp  Douglas, 
among  them  being  Mr.  Marion  Birch,  of  Woodford  County, 
Ky.,  Mr.  Osborne,  of  Virginia,  John  Story,  and  J.  Carroll 
Hamilton.  I  don't  remember  the  names  of  the  others.  Upon 
their  escape  they  separated,  the  two  latter  coming  to  me.  I 
kept  on  hand  what  I  termed  an  emergency  fund.  This  served 
me  well  now.  I  sent  them  flying  as  soon  as  possible.  The 
amount  was  returned  to  me  by  their  friends,  so  that  I  might 
be  prepared  if  called  upon. 

During  all  this  time  I  was  not  idle  with  prison  and  hos- 
pital work.  That  went  steadily  on.  It  was  a  life  of  continual 
excitement,  but  my  very  heart  and  soul  were  in  it.  Though 
but  a  girl,  I  was  doing  all  I  could. 

One  morning  a  trim-looking  soldier  came.  He  called  for 
me.  For  some  reason  (I  never  could  tell  why),  instantly 
when  I  saw  him  I  was  "on  guard."  The  man,  I  thought, 
was  acting  a  part.  So  I  watched  every  word  I  said.  He  was 
bright,  gentlemanly,  and  talked  and  talked.  I  became  un- 
suspicious. He  was  a  spy.  .He  simply  labored  to  wring  a 
single  admission  that  I  had  seen  or  helped  escaped  prisoners. 
Then  he'd  change  his  tactics  and  go  on  the  pathetic — pity 
them.  So  would  I.  I  sang  and  played  for  him,  softened  him 
with  music ;  then  appealed  to  his  better  nature,  recalling 
his  home,  his  mother,  his  love  for  her.  This  seemed  to  be 
a  sacred  and  tender  thing  with  him.  I  watched  for  my  life 
every  word  I  said.  I  knew  Fort  Lafayette  was  my  destina- 
tion;  threats  had  been  made;  but  apparently  I  was  uncon- 
cerned. It  was  a  fearful  game  of  "diamond  cut  diamond." 
I  thought  he'd  never  leave.  After  hours  of  fruitless  trial,  he 
got  up  and  said :  "Miss  Perry,  I  will  throw  myself  upon  your 
mercy  and  acknowledge  that  I  was  sent  here."  "Indeed !"  I 
exclaimed  (I  knew  it  all  the  time).  "Yes,"  he  continued, 
"but  I  would  suffer  my  right  arm  to  be  cut  off  before  I 


54 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


would  utter  one  word  to  injure  you."  "Thank  you,"  I  re- 
plied. "Now,  will  you  do  me  one  favor?"  "Indeed,  I  will." 
"Well,  it  is  this:  Please  tell  Colonel  Johnson  for  me  that  he 
knows  I  am  a  Rebel  and  that  I  say  he  is  expected  to  keep 
the  prisoners  in  the  prison;  but  if  one  of  them  escapes  and 
comes  to  me  for  help,  I  will  surely  give  it,  and  ha  may  help 
it  if  he  can."  I  did  do  this,  for  I  was  angry,  indignant  to 
be  so  dealt  with.  The  "spy"  shook  my  hand  most  cordially 
and  left.  I  used  my  underground  and  told  some  of  my 
friends.    'I hey  swore  vengeance  if  they  ever  got  hold  of  him. 

Late  one  evening  the  bell  was  timidly  rung.  A  young 'boy 
came— an  escaped  prisoner  !  We  got  him  in.  We  had  means 
of  verifying  our  friends,  and  it  was  just  here  that  the  under- 
ground had  served  so  well.  He  proved  to  be  George  Kern, 
of  Bourbon  County,  Ky.  He  was  fifteen  years  old,  he  said, 
and  was  small  in  stature  and  slender.  We  took  him  to  a 
room  upstairs  and  locked  him  in.  As  soon  as  possible  we 
smuggled  him  food.  We  trusted  no  one.  Servants  especially 
might  repeat.  When  he  saw  the  food,  he  burst  into  tears. 
Young  and  nearly  starved,  he  had  wandered  in  the  "black- 
jack," which  had  proved  the  prisoners'  friend.  Low,  bushy, 
thick,  it  concealed  them.  Through  its  friendly  shelter  this 
young  boy  had  hidden  one  night  and  that  day. 

If  I  remember  correctly,  it  was  Saturday  night  when  he 
came.  Here  was  a  dilemma.  We  must  keep  him  until  Mon- 
day, and  he  must  then  get  away.  Imagine  our  situation.  An 
escaped  prisoner  in  the  house.  We  knew  we  were  being 
watched.  Often  we  saw  squads  of  soldiers  with  gleaming 
guns  marching  past  up  the  avenue.  This  was  a  menace. 
George  told  us  the  surgeon  of  the  post  had  helped  him  to 
escape.  We  were  astounded,  as  we  knew  him  to  be  exceed- 
ingly bitter  in  his  feelings  toward  the  South  and  almost  cruel 
to  the  prisoners.  How  the  help  was  given  was  easily  ex- 
plained. Dr.  Watson  had  driven  his  buggy  within  the  stock- 
ade one  night.  George  Kern  happened  to  be  near,  when  it 
came  like  a  flash :  "Here  is  my  chance."  He  darted  under 
the  buggy,  caught  the  coupling  pole  (I  think  he  called  it), 
threw  his  feet  around  it,  also  clasping  it  with  his  hands  and 
arms.    When  the  doughty  doctor  drove  out,  behold,  he  car- 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


55 


ried  an  escaping  prisoner !  Even  in  our  fright  we  enjoyed 
the  situation,  and  were  immensely  amused. 

We  held  a  council  of  war  as  to  ways  and  means.  I  had 
my  emergency  fund,  and  we  concluded  that,  as  he  was  small 
and  slender,  we  would  dress  him  as  a  girl.  This  we  did  down 
to  every  detail.  Hoops  were  worn  ;  he  had  them.  His  bold, 
eaglelike  eyes  troubled  us.  So  we  trimmed  up  one  of  the 
scoop  bonnets  worn  at  that  time,  and  with  many  adjurations 
made  him  promise  to  keep  his  eyes  cast  down.  I  prepared  a 
pretty  little  hand  basket  and  placed  within  it  a  box  of  face 
powder,  comb,  brush,  and  all  such  adjuncts  to  the  toilet, 
together  with  extra  collars,  cuffs,  and  handkerchiefs.  He 
was  to  personate  a  shy  country  girl.  Poor  boy !  how  sad  he 
was  when  he  bade  us  farewell ! 

I  had  lectured  him  most  severely  as  to  how  he  must  act — 
his  manner,  etc. — as  he  was  now  a  girl,  and  taught  him  how 
to  manage  his  hoops,  etc.  Of  course  we  were  most  anxious 
concerning  his  getting  away  safely ;  but  this  was  such  a 
huge  joke  that  I  was  fairly  dancing  with  delight.  As  he  left 
a  dreadful  storm  was  coming  up,  and  this  favored  him. 
People  were  rushing  home  to  escape  the  storm.  He  barely 
had  time  to  get  to  the  depot  before  the  storm  burst.  So  in 
the  general  confusion  he  had  not  attracted  notice.  He  wrote 
from  Cincinnati  that  at  the  Rock  Island  depot  that  night,  in 
obeying  my  instructions,  he  sat  off  by  himself.  When  the 
ticket  office  opened,  still  he  did  not  move.  An  officer  from 
the  island  came  up  to  him.  George  thought  all  was  over  for 
him  when  the  officer  said:  "Have  you  bought  your  ticket. 
Miss?"  "No,  sir,"  he  replied  in  a  frightened  feminine  voice. 
"Train  will  soon  leave.  Give  me  your  money  and  destina- 
tion, and  I  will  assist  you."  The  supposed  young  lady,  with 
a  gasp  of  relief  and  a  sigh  of  satisfaction,  said :  "Chicago 
and  Cincinnati."  In  a  hurried,  bustling,  business  tone  the 
officer  said :  "You  had  better  get  a  through  ticket  to  Cin- 
cinnati." This  he  kindly  bought,  and  gave  it  and  the  change 
to  the  young  lady  (  ?),  who  gladly  got  away. 

After  he  had  returned  to  his  home,  in  Bourbon  County. 
Ky.,  and  exchanged  his  dress  for  his  own  clothes,  he  was  in 
Paris,  Ky.,  one   day  when  Yankee   soldiers  arrested  him. 


5* 


kOCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


Instantly  he  again  assumed  the  role  of  a  half-witted  unfortu- 
nate.   They  let  him  go,  and  he  hurried  to  Dixie. 

When  I  read  this  paper  before  the  Henrietta  Hunt  Morgan 
Chapter,  U.  D.  C.  January  31,  1901,  Mrs.  Arnold,  who  is 
from  Bourbon  County,  Ky\,  exclaimed :  "O,  I  heard  of  that 
boy  George  Kern's  being  dressed  up  in  girl's  clothes."  Just 
before  he  reached  home  he  was  arrested  by  some  Yankee 
soldiers.  They  questioned  him  and  among  other  things 
asked:  "Who  is  your  father?"  He  replied:  "Why,  Paw." 
Who  is  your  mother  ?"  "Why,  Maw."  "O !"  said  one  of  the 
men,  "she  is  a  fool ;  let  her  go."  They  actually  thought  from 
the  way  he  (or  she)  acted  that  he  was  idiotic,  so  let  him  go. 
He  got  through  the  lines,  returned  to  his  regiment,  and  served 
well  afterwards.  A  comrade  who  lives  in  Paris,  Ky.,  tells  of 
him.  We  cannot  find  him,  but  this  comrade  thinks  he  is 
somewhere  in  Texas. 

We  had  expected  trouble,  but  heard  nothing  till  two  days 
after.  I  was  called  to  the  door,  and  found  there  a  United 
States  officer,  and  to  my  consternation  as  T  glanced  down  at 
the  gate  I  saw  a  squad  of  soldiers,  with  guns  gleaming.  Like 
George,  I  thought  my  time  had  come ;  but  not  a  muscle 
quivered,  and  I  controlled  my  countenance.  My  excitement 
found  escape  in  exquisite  politeness.  I  invited  the  officer  in, 
regretting  profusely  my  cousin's  absence.  He  declined.  I 
saw  he  meant  business-.  He  said :  "It  is  not  Mrs.  Boyle. 
Miss  Perry;  it  is  you  I  want  to  see."  "O,  indeed,  sir' 
What  can  I  do  for  you?"  He  replied:  "I  am  going  to  ask 
\ou  a  question,  and  I  want  you  to  answer  it  truthfully.  A 
prisoner  has  escaped.  Have  you  seen  one  either  yesterday 
or  to-day?'  I  looked  that  man  straight  in  the  eye  and  re- 
plied: "Sir,  I  have  not,  either  yesterday  or  to-day."  God 
knows  I  told'  the  truth,  and  there  was  a  jubilee  in  my  heart 
that  I  could  say  this  and  tell  the  truth.  George  Kern  had 
gone  the  day  before  yesterday.  Had  he  timed  his  question 
in  that  manner,.  I  do  not  know  how  I  should  have  answered, 
for  I  will  not  soil  my  soul  with  a  lie. 

At  once  I  sternly  demanded  that  he  call  his  men  and  search 
that  house.  He  said:  "No;  I  see  you  are  telling  me  the 
truth."    With  growing  indignation  I  insisted,  but  he  refused. 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 


57 


I  asked  to  be  excused  one  instant.  I  knew  the  gardener  had 
been  cutting  grapes.  I  had  the  maid  pile  a  large  tray  full, 
take  it  to  the  door,  and  offer  some  to  the  officer ;  then  had 
him  call  one  of  his  men,  who  took  it  to  the  gate  and  passed 
rhe  grapes  around.  A  more  pleased  and  delighted  group  of 
men  you  never  saw.  A  soldier  always  feels  complimented  by 
thoughtful  notice.  Evidently  I  had  by  this  little  attention 
made  friends  with  all.  That  officer  apologized  to  me  for 
coming. 

The  reason  George  Kern's  escape  was  not  sooner  known 
was  that  he  was  always  declaring  he  intended  leaving.  The 
sergeant  who  cared  for  his  barrack  had  heard  this  so  often 
that  finally  he  began  twitting  him  in  this  wise:  "Why,  hello, 
George !  Good  morning !  'Not  gone  yet  ?"  So  when  he  did 
escape,  the  sergeant  thought  George  was  hiding,  hoping  to 
get  him  to  search  and  so  laugh  back  at  him.  This  was  why 
two  days  were  lost  by  the  authorities  and  gained  by  us. 
When  it  dawned  upon  the  sergeant  that  George  was  gone 
sure  enough,  then  he  reported  and  the  search  was  'taken  up, 
but  George  by  that  time  was  scot-free. 

Another  prisoner  who  escaped  and  came  to  me  was  David 
H.  Ross,  of  Company  C.  8th  Georgia,  who  lived  at  Rome, 
Ga.  -is— 4ead  now.  I  was  now  watched  so  closely  that 
the  situation  became  most  difficult  and  dangerous.  So  I  was 
extremely  cautious,  and  put  him  through  a  severe  cross-ex- 
amination in  regard  to  things  he  could  not  know  unless  he 
were  true  and  belonged  to  the  initiated  on  the  inside.  He 
told  me  how  he  had  escaped.  The  hospital  ambulance  was 
sent  in  daily  for  those  who  were  too  ill  to  remain  inside. 
The  doctors  made  their  rounds  every  day  to  see  who  should 
go  out.  Mr.  Ross  put  on  a  citizen's  suit  he  had  procured, 
over  it  a  Yankee  blue  suit,  and  over  that  he  wrapped  a  big 
gray  blanket.  Just  before  the  ambulance  passed  out  he  seated 
himself  on  the  '  rough  margin  of  a  macadamized  street — he 
chose  a  rough  spot  purposely.  As  the  ambulance  passed  and 
Jehu  was  looking  ahead,  he  leaped  into  the  ambulance  at  the 
back.  The  sick  soldiers  had  been  previously  warned,  and 
made  no  outcry.  In  a  moment  he  was  outside  the  prison 
walls.    Leaving  his  blanket  in  the  ambulance,  he  dropped  to 


58  ROCK  ISLAND  PRISON. 

the  ground  a  blue  man,  crossed  the  Slough,  shed  the  blue, 
became  a  citizen,  and  thus  reached  our  house. 

When  we  became  satisfied  that  he  was  really  what  he  rep- 
resented himself  to  be,  he  was  given  money  and  clothing,  and 
off  he  too  went  in  safety.  I  heard  from  him  in  Canada  and 
several  times  after  he  rejoined  his  regiment  in  the  South. 

One  of  his  friends,  j.  B.  Foster,  of  Barrack  47,  had  agreed 
to  answer  at  roll  call  for  Mr.  Ross.  The  roll  cajler  for 
Barrack  47  would  take  the  word  of  a  prisoner's  friends  that 
he  was  sick;  but  the  roll  caller  in  Mr.  Ross's  barrack  would 
look  into  the  bunk  of  a  man  reported  sick.  Mr.  Foster  would 
draw  his  blanket  up  close,  so  that  his  face  was  hidden,  and 
for  three  days  he  thus  deceived  the  roll  caller ;  while  his 
comrades  in  his  own  barrack  reported  him  sick.  Then  he 
answered  in  Barrack  47,  and  so  far  as  the  guards  knew  Ross 
had  just  escaped. 

Few  traces  of  the  prison  days  remain  at  Rock  Island  now. 
The  whole  island  is  changed,  but  while  life  lasts  the  pictures 
there  photographed  upon  memory  will  live :  The  island,  the 
prison,  the  sorrow  felt  for  the  poor  men,  and  the  memory  of 
the  graves  of  the  valiant  dead  who  were  shot,  frozen,  starved, 
or  died  of  disease.  Although  the  prison  gates  were  opened 
wide  for  all  to  go  free  in  July,  1865,  all  who  had  entered  there 
came  not  away.  Two  thousand  Confederate  soldiers  sleep, 
side  by  side,  far  from  friends  and  home.  Two  thousand  lives 
that  were  precious  to  some  one  passed  over  to  the  other  shore, 
"unwept,  unhonored,  and  unsung,"  without  hearing  again  the 
voices  of  beloved  ones  or  gazing  "once  more"  upon  their 
familiar  faces  when  life's  vespers  rang. 

Upon  the  very  ground  where  the  Confederate  hospital 
stood,  where  so  many  suffered  and  died,  now  stand  the  mass- 
ive shops  of  the  largest,  finest,  and  most  thoroughly  equipped 
arsenal^  owned  by  the  United  States.  As  it  stands  to-day  it 
has  cost  more  than  $9,000,000.  I  cannot  but  feel  that  over 
the  graves  of  our  Confederate  dead  resting  there ,  are  sung 
from  the  flaming  throats  of  the  thunderous  forges  fierce  bat- 
tle cries,  and  wrung  from  the  clanging  of  the  ponderous 
machinery,  echoed  by  the  jangling  implements  of  war,  a 
melody  which  serves  as  their  lullaby! 


ROCK  ISLAND  PRISOX. 


59 


So  sleep  the  deathless  dead,  but  not  alone,  for  the  poet 
says  : 

^^'Wherever  the  brave  have  died, 

They  should  not  rest  apart. 
Living,  they  struggled  side  by  side. 
Why  should  the  hand  of  death  divide 

A  single  heart  from  heart?" 


^^^^^^ 


